


The Future Is Ours To Seize

by PensToTheEnd



Series: Past, Present, and Future [3]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-02-04 22:45:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 27,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12781233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PensToTheEnd/pseuds/PensToTheEnd
Summary: Set three years after the end of The Now We Can't Escape.  Patrick is finishing his education, but something is missing from his life.  As he and Jon plan their summer wedding, Patrick keeps a secret about his future plans from Jon.  We all know that can't be good....





	1. Graduation Day

**Author's Note:**

> i know where it's going... just not sure how it's going to get there... but, you're welcome to come along for the ride...

May

“Patrick Kane”

Patrick walked across the stage to accept his diploma from the president of the university.  He shook his hand, and the hands of the other dignitaries standing in line.  He turned and raised his diploma up, knowing that Jon would be taking a picture.  As he walked back to his seat, he scanned the crowd again, looking for Jon and his family, waving when he found them.  He smiled fondly at Goodie, who was sitting with them. 

Three years.  He’d completed his degree program in just three years.  It had meant loading up on classes a couple of semesters, and taking summer classes, but it had all been worth it.  He’d graduated with a 3.78 grade point average.  Damn English classes.  But, it meant he graduated with honors and that’s all that really mattered.  Nobody would care about his GPA except for him, and Jon.

At 25, Patrick’s life was where he wanted it to be.  He was engaged to Jon, a summer wedding planned.  He had a job with the Hawks waiting for him if he wanted it.  Life was good indeed.

But, something was missing.

Something that had started to eat at Patrick his second semester in college.  An emptiness that kept growing each year.  He’d finally done something about it back in January.

Jon didn’t know about it.  Patrick didn’t tell him.  Jon wouldn’t understand.  It would put an unnecessary strain on their relationship, pressure that Patrick didn’t need while he tried to finish his education.  The problem now was that he’d kept it a secret all these months, and that wouldn’t go over well with Jon.  So, he guessed, he might be screwed either way.  All of this could backfire on him one way or another.

Patrick sat in his seat, waiting for the graduation ceremony to end.  When it did, he stood and turned to look for Jon again.  He waved at him and gave him a thumbs up.  Jon nodded and smiled lovingly down at Patrick from the bleachers.

Yeah, his life was good.  But, that was all about to change.  For the better he hoped.


	2. The Strangest of Ideas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick stands in the shower, the steaming hot water cascading down over his sore muscles. He really needs to drag himself out of the shower. He told Jon he’d be at the game. 
> 
> Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. A full class schedule, with some seriously shitty classes. Plus trying to go to games. Plus finding time to get with her. She was right, it had only been two weeks and if he was going to do this, now was the critical time. If he didn’t do this now, he probably wouldn’t do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... a little more insight into what Patrick's doing... but it may not be what you think...

The previous January…

It had started slowly.  An itch Patrick couldn’t scratch.  Then it became a longing, an emptiness inside him that grew and grew.  Nothing seemed to be able to fill it lately.  Not school.  Not working at Patrick’s Place.  Not family.  Not friends.  Not even Jon.

The idea started on New Year’s Day as the Hawks played in another Winter Classic.  He had watched the game with a keen interest, but he had watched the intermission activities with even more interest.  Players from one of the midget leagues were playing a short game on a side rink area.  Patrick watched them skate.  Watched the coaches.  And a thought came to him.  What if?

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Last semester.”  Jon said, folding his dress pants and laying them in his suitcase.

“Yeah, too bad this road trip is the same time classes start.  A January vacation in Florida would have been nice.”

“You on the beach in January?  There’d be hundreds of reported ghost sightings?”  Jon smiled.

“Ha ha.  I’m not that pale.”  Patrick tossed a pillow at Jon.  “Just because you look like you have a perpetual tan.”

Jon caught the pillow and strode over to the bed.  He whacked Patrick with it, which led to Patrick to grab another pillow and start swinging back.  Before long, he was pinned under Jon who was plastering him with kisses.  Jon would be on a week-long road trip, so packing could wait for a little while.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Patrick couldn’t believe his last semester was actually starting.  He’d pushed himself hard to get his degree in three years.  Really hard.  But he’d done it.  And it would all pay off in May when he graduated with a Bachelor’s in Business Administration with a concentration in analytics. 

Patrick had another reason, besides his classes, for not traveling with Jon this time, however.  This seemed like the perfect time to put his plan into motion.  A plan he couldn’t tell anyone about, not just yet.  A plan that had hatched as he’d watched the outdoor game a couple of weeks ago.

Patrick knew what was causing the vast emptiness in his soul, what was missing from his otherwise perfect life. 

Hockey.

He never thought he would miss it so much.  He’d resolved a long time ago that he didn’t want to play, that he didn’t want to be around it other than to watch Jon.  He went to family skates, but he specifically avoided playing.  But now, Patrick knew.  He missed hockey.  He missed being a part of it. 

So, he decided to do something about it.  Of course, what he wanted might not be doable, so he also decided not to tell anyone.  Especially not Jon.

During the time between the game and Jon’s road trip, Patrick had put his plan in motion.  The first step was to get the name of someone who could help him.  He’d called her and made arrangements to meet. 

He drove to the place she had told him about, secluded and out of the way.  She was waiting for him in her car.  He got out and grabbed his duffle bag out of the trunk of his vehicle.

“Hey, I wasn’t sure you’d come.”  She said, getting out of her car.

“Me either.”  Patrick smiled.  “I can’t believe I’m doing this.  It’s really not like me.”

She laughed.  “Of course not.  I know it’s something you swore you’d never do, I bet.”

“Jon can’t know.  Nobody can know.”  He reminded her.  “This has to stay just between us.”

“That’s why I picked this place.”  She stopped at the door.  “But, if we do this, we do this all the way.  No backing out.”

“No backing out.”  Patrick agreed, nodding his head.  He opened the door and held it for her.  “Shall we?”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Maman says it’s not too early to start planning.”  Jon said, sitting down on the couch next to Patrick.  “I think she may have started planning this the day I told her I was going to propose, actually.”

“Uh huh.”  Patrick said.

“She thinks an outdoor wedding.  Would you like that?”

“Uh huh.”  Patrick said again, his attention focused on the text book in his lap.

“Patrick, are you even listening?”

“What?”  Patrick looks up.  “Yeah, outdoor wedding.  I don’t know, would be warm.”

“Yeah.  But nice.  Maybe the wedding outside, reception inside.”

“Okay.”  Patrick said, going back to his reading.

“What’s so interesting?”  Jon leaned over, resting his head on Patrick’s shoulder.

“Comprehensive Statistical Economics.”

“Oh god.  I’m sorry I asked.”

“Yeah, saved a couple of real pain in the ass classes for this semester.  This one is a real bitch it looks like, and the professor is an asshole.”

“Nice.  I’m sure you’ll charm the pants off him.”  Jon kids.  “Like you did me.”

Jon nudges Patrick’s side.

“Ow.”  Patrick jerks, bringing his hand up to rub the spot.

“I didn’t poke you that hard.  Wimp.”

“Sorry.  Just a little sore.  I fell on the…”  Patrick pauses, he almost said too much.  “I, uh, I fell on some ice last week while you were gone.”

“You didn’t say anything.  Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, Jon.  Just bruised my side a little.  Nothing to worry about.”

“Okay.”  Jon sat back up and reached for the remote.  “Mind if I watch TV while you study?”

“No.  That’s fine.”  Patrick keeps reading.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I’m using muscles I haven’t used in three years.”  Patrick moans as he lies on the weight bench.

“Poor baby.”  She stood over his head, spotting him as he did bench presses.  “We need to build up your muscles.  And your stamina.”

“It’s only been two weeks.”  He lets the bar settle on the rack and sits up.  “You can’t expect this all in just two weeks.  God.”

“We’re on a tight time schedule, Patrick.  We don’t have time to piss around.  If you want to do this, you have to work extra hard.”

“Ugh.  Really?  You think?”  Patrick answered, rolling his eyes. 

“You haven’t done anything like this for three, no wait, four years, right?  You are really out of shape.”

“Again, it’s not going to happen overnight.”

“It’s not going to happen at all if you don’t work hard.  Especially just starting out.  We need to get from zero to sixty, fast.”

“Yeah, fast so Jon notices right away.” 

“Just how long to you think you’ll be able to hide this from him.”

“As long as I can.”  Patrick lies back down and lifts the bar.  “Okay.  One.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Patrick stands in the shower, the steaming hot water cascading down over his sore muscles.  He really needs to drag himself out of the shower.  He told Jon he’d be at the game. 

Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.  A full class schedule, with some seriously shitty classes.  Plus trying to go to games.  Plus finding time to get with her.  She was right, it had only been two weeks and if he was going to do this, now was the critical time.  If he didn’t do this now, he probably wouldn’t do it.

He turned off the water, stepped out on to the rug and dried himself off.  He checked the clock in the bedroom.  He had a little extra time, maybe he could get in a quick nap.  He went to the dresser and pulled out a pair of his Sabres sweats, slipping them on.  He laid down on the bed and pulled a blanket over him.  Ten minutes, all he wanted was ten minutes.

When he rolled over, he was completely under the sheets and comforter.  Bright morning sunlight was shining through the windows.  He stretched and yawned.  The bed next to him was empty.  He got up and went about his morning routine before going in search of Jon.

“Hey, good morning.”  He slinked into the kitchen, feeling and looking guilty.  “Sorry about last night.”

“No problem.”  Jon smiled, bending to give Patrick’s lips a quick peck as Patrick leaned up to meet him.  “You missed a hella good game, though.”

“You win?”

Jon swatted Patrick’s ass as he stepped away.  “Shithead.  Yes.”

“What was the score?”

“Five one.  And I had two goals.”  Jon beamed.

“Aw, now I’m really sorry I missed it.  I was just so tired.  Always this was at the start of a semester it seems.”  Patrick went and sat down at the table, pouring himself a glass of juice.  “What’s for breakfast.”

“Pancakes.  Bacon.  Eggs.”  Jon read off the menu.  “And yeah, I figured you were tired.  That’s why I didn’t wake you when I got home.  I don’t remember it being quite this bad this early in other semesters.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t send the Mounties to find me when I wasn’t at the game.”  Patrick teased, changing the subject.

“I would have, but you sent me a text.”  Jon looked at him, concerned.  “You don’t remember doing that?”

“Must have done it in my sleep.”  Patrick muses.

“Are you sure you aren’t over-doing?  No harm in taking an extra semester to finish up, you could drop a couple of courses.”  Jon questioned, setting a plate of pancakes down in front of Patrick.

Patrick shook his head.  “Nah, I want to get done.  Time to get back to the real world.”

Jon kissed his forehead.  “Okay.  But if it gets to be too much…”

“I know.”  Patrick smiled.  “But no.  I’m just ready to be done.  Want to move on to bigger and better things.”


	3. I Know He's Up To Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick stands in front of the mirror. He’s trimmed up a lot in the month he’s been back in a gym. Jon has to have noticed, but he hasn’t said anything. Patrick’s not sure he should be worried about that, but he is. At some point, he’s going to have to come up with a story Jon will believe.
> 
> He hears Jon come in to the bedroom and root around. Jon’s back from morning skate already. Patrick didn’t realize it was that late.
> 
> “What’re you looking for?”
> 
> “Nothing.”
> 
> “Uh huh.” Patrick steps into the bedroom, just a towel wrapped around his waist. Jon turns and stops, staring. Yeah, he’s noticed.
> 
> “You, uh, you look good. Like you’ve been working out.” Jon tells him.

“I think he’s been working out.”  Jon bends over, tying his laces.  He sits back up, looking every bit Captain Serious.  “No, I’m positive he’s working out.”

“So, he’s almost done with school, maybe he’s just decided it’s time to get in shape again.”  Sharpy says.

“Maybe.”  Jon goes back to lacing his skates, but sits up again after just a few seconds.  “He’s also spending more time doing something.  He says he’s studying.  But, I don’t think so.”

“Okay, so maybe he is spending time working out.”

“What if he’s doing something else?”  Jon worries.

“Like what.”  Sharpy sighs, Jon isn’t going to let this go right now.

“I don’t know.  What if, what if he’s seeing somebody else.”

“He’s not seeing anyone else, To-ehs.  He’s all yours.”  Sharpy laughs.  That was not the thing to do.

“I’m serious, Pat.  He’s acting all weird and suspicious.  I know he’s doing something different.  Why would he be working out again if not to impress someone.”

“Cause he’s tired of not being in shape?  Cause he wants to look good for the wedding?  For you, asshole.”

Jon thinks about that.  “Maybe.  Maybe you’re right, and I shouldn’t worry.”

He goes back to lacing his skates and Sharpy smiles at him.  It isn’t two seconds, however, before he pops back up.

“But what if?”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, ready to hit the ice for a work-out today?”  Gwen asks.

This was where having her as his trainer would pay off, Patrick knew.  Not all personal trainers could also skate, and Gwen Anders had come highly recommended for that reason.  She was a trainer for one of the women’s teams locally, and volunteered her time as a coach for one of the midget teams, where girls and boys still played on the same team.  She didn’t have a lot of spare time for private sessions, but she’d made time for Patrick.

“Yeah.  I’m ready.”  Patrick says.

“This isn’t going to be some leisurely family skate, Patrick.  I’m gonna work your ass off.”

Patrick groaned.  “I don’t doubt that.”

She pulls an equipment bag out of her trunk.  “Full gear.  I took a guess on the size, but I think it’ll be fine for today.”

Patrick cringes a little.

“Problem?”

“Haven’t been in full gear in over four years.  Not since…”

“A time for everything.  This is the next step.  If you can’t do it, then there’s no point going on.” 

He takes the bag and trudges into the rink.  As with the gym, they’ve picked an out of the way spot, where the chance of anyone recognizing Patrick will be slim.  That’s another reason Patrick chose Gwen, as well.  She’s not as well known at all the local rinks.

They’ve got the ice to themselves for an hour.  Patrick changes in one of the public locker rooms.  The pads are a little snug, but she’s right, they’ll work for today.  He needs to think about buying some equipment of his own, however.  Doing that without Jon finding out might be a challenge.

It’s an odd sensation stepping out on to the ice in full gear again.  The stick in his hands is familiar, and yet, strangely unfamiliar at the same time.  It’s not the right curve, or the right flex, but like the pads, it’ll do for today.  Today is about skating, not shooting.  Gwen has some cones set up already, and a bunch of pucks dumped on the ice. 

“Let’s start with some simple edge work to warm-up.”  She says, pointing at one group of cones.  “Easy stuff.  Figure eight around the cones.  Switch skates on the cross-over.”

Patrick glides around the first cone.  Yeah, this is easy enough.  When he picks up a little speed after the third one, she yells at him to slow down.  Just a warm-up, she reminds him.

She lets him skate that way for about five minutes, then they play follow-the-leader around the whole rink.  Patrick mimics her moves as she skates.  Cross-overs.  Backwards.  Scissors.  Inside edge.  Outside edge.  Stopping and starting.  Muscle memory starts to come back as the moves get harder.   They aren’t shooting the pucks, but they skate through them and around them, using them like the cones for some fine foot work.

“Okay.”  Gwen says after another fifteen minutes of skating.  “Ready for some conditioning?”

“No.  But okay.”  Patrick grins.

She grabs some cones and sets them up where the nets would be at each end of the rink. 

“Twice around.  All out.”

“Shit.”  Patrick groans.  “I didn’t miss these.”

She blows her whistle and Patrick takes off.  When he comes around the first set of cones, he sees her look down.  Stopwatch.  Shit.

He rounds the far end for the second time and he hears her.

“Thirty-five.  Thirty-six.  Thirty-seven.  Thirty-eight.”

He skates past her. 

“Well, at least you were under a minute.”  She laughs.  “We have a lot of work to do.”

She gives him a minute or two to catch his breath and then sends him again.  Altogether, he does four sets.  His ass is dragging by the time he’s done, and his time has gone up, not down.

She lets him take a short break to get some water.  Then it’s on to the next drill.

“Blue line, back, red line, back, far blue line, back.”

Patrick groans again.

“You complain, we stop.”

“No.  Not complaining.”  Patrick raises his hands in surrender.  “Just a lot first time out.”

“And it’s only gonna get worse.”  She grins.

She runs Patrick through four sets of those as well.  By the time he’s done, he’s bent over heaving, not sure if he’s gonna toss his cookies or not.

“Okay.  Skate a couple easy laps to cool off a bit.  We’re done for today.”

“Thank god.”  Patrick gets out between deep breathes.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Patrick stands in front of the mirror.  He’s trimmed up a lot in the month he’s been back in a gym.  Jon has to have noticed, but he hasn’t said anything.  Patrick’s not sure he should be worried about that, but he is.  At some point, he’s going to have to come up with a story Jon will believe.

He hears Jon come in to the bedroom and root around.  Jon’s back from morning skate already.  Patrick didn’t realize it was that late.

“What’re you looking for?”

“Nothing.”

“Uh huh.”  Patrick steps into the bedroom, just a towel wrapped around his waist.  Jon turns and stops, staring.  Yeah, he’s noticed.

“You, uh, you look good.  Like you’ve been working out.”  Jon tells him.

“I have.  For about a month.” 

“What brought this on?”  Jon goes and sits on the edge of the bed. 

Patrick walks over and slides between Jon’s knees, resting his hands on Jon’s shoulders.

“You like?”

“Of course.  But I like you any way you are.”  Jon leans in and kisses Patrick’s stomach, making soft smooching noises.  “You always look good to me.”

“Flattery will get you places, Toews.”  Patrick bends and kisses the top of Jon’s head, sliding his hands down Jon’s back.  “Wanna fool around?”

“You have time?  Thought you had a class this afternoon.”

“I can cut it.  Missing one class won’t hurt.  We can fool around then nap together, before the game.”  Patrick straightens.  “Haven’t done that for a while.”

“Yeah?”  Jon keeps working his mouth over Patrick’s chest.  He stops to suck on a nipple.  Patrick tips his head back, pushing his chest towards Jon.

“Uh, huh.”  He murmurs.  “That’s nice.”

Patrick tugs at the back of Jon’s t-shirt until Jon lifts his arms and lets him pull it off.  Jon goes right back to working over Patrick’s nipples, sucking at one while he pinches and tugs at the other with his fingers.  Patrick moans lowly.

Patrick doesn’t want Jon to stop, but the way his dick is reacting, he needs to move this along or it’s going to be all over before they even get started.  He pushes on Jon’s shoulders, forcing him back onto the bed.  Patrick’s hands make quick work of Jon’s belt and jeans, stripping him completely in seconds.  He detours to the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube before he pulls his towel off and climbs on the bed to straddle Jon’s chest. 

Jon reaches around and grabs a handful of ass, pulling Patrick up more so he can get his mouth around Patrick’s dick. 

“Mmmm.”  Patrick hums, letting his hands run through Jon’s hair.  “Nicer.”

Patrick reaches around behind his back to grasp Jon’s cock, as Jon licks along the underside of Patrick’s cock.  Patrick slowly runs his fingertips up and down the length of Jon’s cock, spreading the precome leaking from the slit already.  Patrick loves feeling Jon get hard in his hand.

Jon feels on the bed for the lube, so he could squeeze some on the finger of one hand.  He spread Patrick’s ass cheeks and rubbed the lubed finger over Patrick’s hole, just rubbing the lube around with the pad of his finger.  Patrick arches his back, pushing back on Jon’s finger, wanting more than just this teasing. 

Jon squeezed out some more lube on his finger, then tosses the bottle down.  He obliges Patrick’s wants this time by letting his finger slip past the tight rim and into Patrick.  Jon works his finger in and out, crooking it down so he hits Patrick’s prostate every couple of strokes, which makes Patrick’s cock twitch in Jon’s mouth.  Jon holds his head still as Patrick begins to slowly rock his hips, fucking into Jon’s mouth and fucking back onto Jon’s finger.

“Jesus, Jon.”  Patrick swears, dropping his chin to his chest, his eyes closed as he enjoys the sensations Jon’s causing to course through him.

Jon pressed his lips around Patrick when Patrick rocked his cock into Jon’s mouth, his hand holding Patrick’s ass still, so he stayed deep in Jon’s mouth.  Jon sucked on Patrick, using his tongue, flicking it along the underside.  Patrick rolled his shoulders forward, curling his body.  Both his hands shot to Jon’s arms, holding him tight.

“Fuck.  Fuck, Jonny.  Need to… fuck.”  Patrick swore again. 

Jon fucked Patrick’s ass with his finger, working it in and out faster as he sucked on Patrick’s cock.  He pulled his mouth back a little when he felt the first drops of Patrick’s come hit the back of his throat.  Jon’s tongue kept flicking at Patrick’s cock as he felt it twitch with each spurt of come, licking and sucking until Patrick was spent.

Jon withdrew his finger and let his hands rest on Patrick’s hips as he also let Patrick’s cock slide out of his mouth.  Patrick carded his fingers through Jon’s hair, looking down at him.

“Wow.  I thought you wanted…”

“Well, sometimes things don’t quite go as planned.”  Jon smiled up at Patrick.

Patrick scooted off Jon to stand between his knees, Jon’s lower legs still dangling off the bed.  Patrick bent over Jon and took Jon’s cock in his mouth.  It didn’t take long for Jon to come under Patrick’s oral manipulation.

After they’d cleaned up, the climbed into bed together to take a pre-game nap.  Jon laid on his back and Patrick snuggled up against him.

“That was way better than network analysis.”  Patrick chuckled.

“That’s what you skipped?  I can only imagine how boring that must be.”  Jon snickered. 

He thought about asking Patrick again as to why he had started working out.  But.  Their pre-nap activities, and the fact that Patrick was warm, and sleepy, and content, all comfy in his arms, didn’t lend any credence to feed Jon’s worry.  He decided to let it go.  For now.


	4. Lonely Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The only thing Jon has ever wanted in life was to have someone who loved him. Most people would think all Jon wanted in life was to be the best at hockey. That’s the side of Jon they saw, not the private, shy little boy who made friends only to lose them when they saw how good he was at hockey.

Patrick suddenly deciding to get in shape and workout again concerned Jon.  Sharpy did his best to brush them off as irrational, but Jon wasn’t so easily convinced.  He guessed it was all plausible that Patrick just felt he had more time now, and wanted to trim up for the wedding. 

But.

Maybe he’d be less suspicious if it was just the working out.  But, there were other things that had changed over the last month.  Things that just added to Jon’s concerns.

It started with the phone calls.  Early mornings.  Late at night.  Patrick’s phone would ring, he’d glance at the number and excuse himself to take the call in another room.  Jon didn’t want to pry, but it was natural to ask Patrick who it was.  Then answer was usually, just a friend from school.  Somebody needed help with an assignment.  All easily believable.

Unless you were Jon.

If you were Jon, there was always that but hanging out there.

Along with the phone calls came more texting, as well.  Patrick already texted a lot, keeping in touch with Goodie.  Texting chirps back and forth with Sharpy and some of the guys.  Texting classmates.  Texting Jason and the others at Patrick’s Place.  Nobody would really notice that Patrick was texting more than normal.

No one except Jon.

Jon, however, noticed.  He noticed everything when it came to Patrick.  To some that might seem a bit possessive.  To Patrick, it was just Jon being Jon.  He was used to it.  He liked it, actually.  Jon was so observant about everything, not just Patrick.  He noticed small details about everyone, about everything.

Jon wouldn’t be so concerned if Patrick would just tell him what was going on.  No matter what either Patrick or Sharpy said, Jon couldn’t help thinking the worst. 

Jon knew it was just his insecurities.  His demons if you will.  Yeah, Patrick had his past.  Horrible things that had left him scarred.  Things he’d fought back from, though.  Over the last few years, Patrick had gotten himself together, for the most part.  Jon, well, maybe he appeared all calm and in control on the outside, all Captain Serious, but no, Jon had his own demons from his youth that still haunted him.

The only thing Jon has ever wanted in life was to have someone who loved him.  Most people would think all Jon wanted in life was to be the best at hockey.  That’s the side of Jon they saw, not the private, shy little boy who made friends only to lose them when they saw how good he was at hockey. 

It started in Midgets, when Jon started playing on more competitive teams.  By age eight, he was better than his peers.  He was better than most of the kids older than him, too.  He was almost always the youngest on the teams he played on, because he got moved up to the next level as soon as he was eligible.  And that’s when the animosity started.  Other players.  Parents.  Coaches of other teams.

Jon heard it all.  Every taunt.  Every slur.  Every harsh word.

By the time he became a teenager, he didn’t have any true friends.  His teammates hung out with him only when they had to, and only because of hockey.  He played on some national teams, but it was always the same as his local teams.  Away from hockey, Jon was isolated.

There was also the incident with his coach when Jon was 12.  Unlike Patrick, Jon had family that he knew he could go to for protection.  But, standing up for himself and reporting a beloved coach didn’t earn him any fans.  The criticism increased.  The taunts got worse.  Jon had to change teams.

On top of it all, Jon had figured out at an early age that he didn’t like girls.  Not the way most of his teammates did.  Jon liked boys. 

It was something he kept to himself.  Jon listened as his teammates talked about the girls they liked.  About kisses stolen in dark corners at the rink.  About more.  Jon let himself wonder what it would be like to kiss a boy, but he never tried it.  The most he let himself do was to jerk off with a few teammates.  That was just boys exploring their sexuality.  A lot of them did it.  But they never touched each other.

Jon didn’t try that until he went to college. 

He started at the University of North Dakota at sixteen.  He worked hard, took cyber-classes, and got his high school diploma early.  Physically, he was as big and strong as the eighteen-year-olds on the team.  He thought he was definitely more mature.  So when he tried out for the team, they took him.

And Jon thought he’d left the loneliness behind.

It was during his first year at UND when Jon let himself kiss another boy.  Another freshman, who was 18 and in his history class.  He’d asked the shy freshman out for dinner and kissed Jon good-night.  They dated for two months, before he got bored because Jon wouldn’t do anything more than kiss.  Jon couldn’t tell him about his coach, about how the thought of giving – or getting – a blow job scarred him to death.  So, the boy stopped dating Jon and some of the loneliness came back.

His teammates tolerated Jon.  He was better than a lot of them.  Better than most of them, truth be told.  They tolerated him if he was around.  They talked about him and made fun of him behind his back.  All of them, except TJ.  TJ wasn’t intimidated by Jon’s skill.  TJ was good, too.  Jon was sure they’d both be in the NHL soon.  He didn’t think any of his other teammates would get there, but he and TJ would.

TJ liked Jon, even though he was younger.  He let Jon hang around his dorm room.  For a while, Jon had a friend.  He could be himself around TJ.  TJ didn’t judge him.  TJ didn’t tease him.  Jon sort of, kind of, loved TJ. 

But then, TJ got drafted.  And, he went to the NHL.

And Jon was alone again.

His second year at UND, Jon met another boy that he dated for almost six months.  He let himself do things with this boy.  Jon got his first blow job.  It was amazing.  Jon let himself enjoy sex, well, up to a point.  He never let the boy fuck him and he never fucked the boy.  But, it was more of a relationship than Jon had ever had before.

And Jon wasn’t alone.  Until the boy broke his heart and left him for someone else.

The next summer, Jon got drafted.  And, he went to the NHL.

His first year he roomed with Brent Seabrook.  He was still lonely, but he wasn’t alone.  And for the first time in his hockey career, his teammates treated him as an equal.  There were no more taunts.  No more slurs.  No more envy and bitter jealousy.  They loved that Jon was a great player.  It made them better, playing with him, they told Jon.

And Jon thrived on the ice.  So much so, that the Hawks made him Captain at just 19, in just his second year.

But Jon was still lonely.

That’s why he had first picked up Jason.  He just wanted company.  Someone his own age.  Someone who didn’t treat him like Captain Serious.  He wanted a friend.  And maybe, at some point, something more. 

But now, he was in the NHL, and you couldn’t be gay in the NHL.  So, Jon wouldn’t let anyone know.

Then, he met Patrick.  And, he wasn’t lonely any more.  And, he found love.

And, he found out you could be gay and play in the NHL.

He’d thought he’d lost Patrick more than once.  So, he worried about it.  He couldn’t help it.

It’s what his past had taught him.  That he wasn’t meant to have love in his life.

So, that’s why Jon didn’t come right out and ask Patrick what was going on.  He wanted to know, but he didn’t want to know.  He didn’t want to think about the possibility that Patrick had found someone else.  Maybe, someone who didn’t play hockey.  Someone who didn’t remind Patrick of his past.  Someone who…

Jon felt very alone.


	5. Decisions - Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You should tell him either way.” Gwen admonishes him.
> 
> “Nope. If it is going to work, I want it to be a surprise.” Patrick sends a quick wrister into the net, loops around to get another puck, and starts the pattern one more time.
> 
> “I think you should tell him. And, Patrick,” Gwen says, “watching you today, I think I know which way you should go.”
> 
> Patrick smiled to himself. He knew what way he wanted to go, as well. He just needed to wait a little longer to make sure he would be able to go there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter... moving the story along...

“Have you decided on a location?”  Andree’ flipped through one of the dozen wedding magazines she’d brought with her from home.

“Non, Maman.”  Jonathan sighed.  He sat a cup of tea on the table for her and sat down next to her on the couch.  He blew across the top of his cup of tea before taking a sip.

“Well, we need to, or they’ll all be booked.  Maybe they are already booked.  We’re very late in planning this whole thing.” 

When Jon didn’t answer, she turned to look at him.  His head was down, eyes fixed on the cup in his hand, a dull, blank glaze to his eyes.

“Jon?”

“I’m sorry.  What?”

“I said, most of the venues may already be booked.”

“Oh.  Um.  Maybe we should just wait until next year.”  Jon mused, his voice low.

“Jonathan?  Honey?  What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Maman.  Really.  It’s just, I think maybe we should just wait.”

“Why would you say that?”  Andree’ closed the magazine and set it on the table.  She turned to Jon and rested a hand on his shoulder.  “Honey, are things not okay between you and Patrick?”

Jon took a deep breath before he answered, letting it out with a heavy sigh.  “I’m not sure, Maman.”

“I was wondering.  Things seem, a bit strained, I’d say.  What’s going on?”

Jon told his mother about his fears.  She, above anyone, would understand why Jon worried, even if he had no real reason to worry.  When he finished, she sat back and put her arm around his shoulders, letting him lay his head on her shoulder.

“I don’t think Patrick is the type to do that.”  She assured Jon.  “Do you?  Really?”

“I don’t want to think it.  But I don’t know.  Do you think I should just come out and ask him what’s going on?”

“Well, directness is usually a good thing.  Talking to your partner is a good thing.”

“I guess.”  Jon sighed.  “I’ll think about it.  But, Maman,” he lifted his head to look at her, “you really don’t think I need to worry about Patrick?”

“I don’t think you need to worry, honey.”

“Okay.  Thank you, for listening to me whine.”

“You weren’t whining.  Trust me, I wouldn’t have listened if you’d been whining.”  Andree’ laughed, smiling at her eldest.  She brushed his hair back.  “I’ll always listen, Jonathan, you know that.”

“I know, Maman.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Patrick weaves his way around the orange cones dotting the ice, moving the puck on the end of his stick easily around each obstacle.  Under and around the stick handling bars.  Off the give-and-go rebounder.   Around more cones.  Finally, saucing it over the rebounder and into the net.

“He shoots!  He scores!”  Patrick yells, throwing his hands up in celebration.

“Pretty easy when there’s no goalie.”  Gwen laughs.  “But that was good work.  Run through it again.”

“Slave driver.”  Patrick pokes his stick at her.  “Pushy. Pushy. Pushy.”

“You said you wanted to move fast.  That you’d like to be able to make a decision on which direction you want to go by the end of March.  Two months isn’t a lot of time for conditioning, Patrick.”

“I know.  I know.”  Patrick plucks another puck from the pile and starts through the pattern again.  “You’re right.”

“I don’t understand the rush.”

“Before playoffs.  I need to know before Jon’s around full-time at some point.  Cause, I’m gonna have to tell him what I’m doing.”  Patrick says as he focuses on his stick-handling.  “If this isn’t going to work, I can tell him.  If it is, well.”

“You should tell him either way.”  Gwen admonishes him.

“Nope.  If it is going to work, I want it to be a surprise.”  Patrick sends a quick wrister into the net, loops around to get another puck, and starts the pattern one more time.

“I think you should tell him.  And, Patrick,” Gwen says, “watching you today, I think I know which way you should go.”

Patrick smiled to himself.  He knew what way he wanted to go, as well.  He just needed to wait a little longer to make sure he would be able to go there.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I don’t know how many people to expect, Maman.  I’ll just be our family, and a few friends.”  Jon told Andree’.  He looked up when he heard the front door open and close, and the distinct sound of Patrick’s backpack hitting the floor.  A second later, Patrick wandered in to the living room and plops down on the couch next to Jon.

“Hello, honey.  How were your classes.”  Andree’ asks.

“Good.  All good.  So, what are we doing?”  Patrick leans into Jon, looking over him to the magazine Andree’ is holding.  “Oh, uh, wedding stuff.”

Patrick goes to stand up, but Jon grabs his arm.  “Oh no you don’t.  There are things we need to decide, and you aren’t getting out of this.”

“I was just going to go get some food.  I’ll be right back.”

“Liar.  You’d slip upstairs and hide out.  We’re doing this today.  Now.  No getting out of it.”  Jon laughs.

“Fine.”  Patrick gives in and settles back down on the couch.  “What do we need to do?”

“Pick a location.  Pick a date.  Put together a guest list.”  Andree’ says.  “Then things will start falling into place.”

“July?”  Jon asks.  “August?”

“August.”  Patrick says.  “That would give us time if you make a big playoff run.  And it would give us time before the season starts again.  Kind of right in the middle, ya know.” 

“August it is then.”  Jon says.

“As for where, you know more about Winterpeg than I do.”

“You want to get married up there?”  Jon questions.  “It’s not your favorite place.”

“It’s your home.  I’m guessing you want to have the wedding there.”

“If you do.”  Patrick huffs.  “Just pick a spot, okay.  Some place nice.”

“Indoor or outdoor?”

“I don’t care.  Really, Jon.  You pick.”

Jon sighs.  “Maman?”

“How about an outdoor ceremony and an indoor reception?”

“That would be nice.”  Jon smiles.  “I’d like that.  Patrick?”

“Whatever you want.”  He fidgets with the hem of his shirt.  A clear sign he doesn’t want to be there.

“Just go.”  Jon says, frustration in his voice.  “Go get food and do whatever.  We’ll pick a spot.”

“You sure?”  Patrick hesitates just a second before jumping up.  “You guys want anything?”

“No thank you, honey.”  Andree’ says.

“No.”  Jon says, softly.

Once Patrick’s gone to the kitchen, Jon turns to look at his mother.

“See what I mean?”

“No.  I don’t see what you mean.”  She honestly didn’t see anything out of the ordinary in Patrick’s behavior.  He was always restless and hard to get to participate in planning anything.

“Never mind.”  Jon sighed again.  “Maybe it’s just me.”

“Maybe it is, Jonathan.  Do you want me to talk to him?”

“No.  Just let it go.  If you don’t think I need to worry…”

“I don’t.”

“Okay, Maman.”  Jon turned his attention back to the magazine.  “Let’s decide where to have the wedding.”

They spent the next hour listing and talking about the various locations around Winnipeg where they might have the wedding, finally agreeing on Fort Gibraltar.  Now they just needed to see if it was available.


	6. Caught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re skating?” He finally said, holding the water bottle tightly between his hands. “I don’t know what to say.”
> 
> “Yep. And how about, oh I’m sorry for thinking you’d ever be a douche and cheat on me, Patrick. Cause I know that you love me more than anything, Patrick. And you’d never do anything to hurt me, Patrick. How about that?”
> 
> “Fuck you.” Jon smiled at last. “Why wouldn’t you tell me this was what you were doing before now?”
> 
> “Cause I didn’t want to get your hopes up, or have you pressure me about it.”

Jon had a day off, so he thought he’d surprise Patrick and meet him after his afternoon class for a late lunch.  He parked and walked over to the building where he knew Patrick would be.  He sat on a bench and waited.  And waited.  And waited.

And Patrick didn’t come out. 

Jon waited twenty minutes after the end of the class time, thinking maybe Patrick was just meeting with his professor.  But when Patrick didn’t come out after that long, he got up and slowly walked back to his car. 

He sat in his car thinking.  Maybe the meeting just took longer than he guessed.  Maybe Patrick skipped class, he was doing well, it wouldn’t be out of character for him to skip.  Maybe he had another errand to run and went out a different entrance.  Maybe.  Maybe it could all be easily explained.

He started the car and drove home.

He was in the kitchen fixing something to eat when Patrick finally came home.  He heard him whistling happily as he came through the door and dropped his backpack, which landed with a loud thud on the floor.  A few seconds later, Patrick strolled into the kitchen.

“Hey, Jonny.”  Patrick gave him a quick kiss, before leaning in front of Jon to look in the pans on the stove.  He lifted the lid on the large sauce pan and breathed in deeply through his nose.  A warm smile crossed his lips at the aroma that filled his nostrils.  “Whatcha fixin’?  Smells amazing.”

“Just soup.”  Jon said flatly.  “How were your classes?”

“Good.  I’m gonna be really glad when this semester is over, and I can be done with all of this.”

“You had your network analysis class today, right?  How’s that going?  Still easy?”

“Uh huh.  It’s not as hard as everyone led me to believe.”  Patrick walked to the fridge to get a drink.  “You want something?”

“No.  I have tea.  Thanks.”

“What are we having besides soup?” 

“Grilled cheese.  That okay?”

Patrick nodded and sat down at the kitchen table.

“So, what was class about today?  The network thing?”  Jon pressed.

“I don’t know, just boring shit.  Why?”  Patrick avoided looking up.  Jon wondered if that was a tell.

“No reason.  Just like to hear about your day.”

“Boring shit, Jon.  Really boring.”  Was Patrick now avoiding the subject?  Another tell?

“Okay.  What do you wanna do after we eat, since I have the day off?” 

“How bout we just stay in?  Watch a movie?  Play some games?  I’m kinda tired today.”

“Sure.  That sounds like fun.”  Jon finally smiled, but his mind kept working through his worries.  Why was Patrick so tired?

After they ate, the settled on the couch to watch movies.  Patrick laid with his head on Jon’s lap, Jon sitting at one end of the couch.  Jon’s hand lightly played with Patrick’s soft, blond curls as he watched the movie.  Patrick fell asleep halfway through it.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Patrick told Jon he’d be late getting home a few nights later, he’d be staying to do some studying with his study group.  Jon texted him.  Patrick always returned his texts, no matter what he was doing.  This time, though, Patrick didn’t answer.  Jon texted him a couple more times, but got no response.

It was well over an hour after his last text that Jon finally got a text from Patrick.

P:  _Sorry.  Phone got turned off._

J:  _No problem._

P:  _What did you need?_

J:  _Not important.  Dinner in crockpot.  Going to Seabs’ for a bit._

Normally, Patrick would jump at the chance to get to go to Brent’s.

P:  _Already ate.  May be late tonight anyway.  Have fun._

_\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

“Where’re you going?”  Patrick asked Jon, who was slipping on a coat.

“Shopping.  There’s a hockey store I want to go check out.  Maybe scope out the sticks.”

“Uh huh.  Like you’re ever going to change sticks.”  Patrick kidded him. 

“Parch said there was a new stick out I might like.  Recommended this place.”  Jon said, mentioning the head equipment guy got Patrick’s attention.

“I can come with?”

“If you want.”  Jon smiled.  He was happy to think Patrick would be interested in going to a hockey store.

They drove across Chicago to a place on the other side from their house.  Patrick knew the neighborhood, but said nothing.  One of the rinks he’d practiced at was not far. 

When they got there, Jon went to look at the sticks right away.  Of course, the Captain of the Hawks drew a crowd of sales people, and soon kids.  All watching the All-Star go over several sticks with a fine-tooth comb, checking the weight, the curve, the whip.  He seemed to have found one he liked.

Patrick wandered around the store, always within sight of Jon.  He looked over the pads, then gloves, then helmets.  He was going to make his way back to Jon when he heard his name.

“Patrick?  What brings you out this way?  Did I forget a session?”

Patrick turned to see Gwen standing behind him.

“Hey.  No.  Just doing a little shopping.”

“Decide to get new gear?  That’s great.”

Before Patrick could stop here, she stepped forward and gave him a big hug.  Patrick, because it’s the polite thing to do, hugged back.

He stood and talked to Gwen for a few minutes, glancing several times towards Jon.  Maybe Jon hadn’t noticed.

Jon autographed a few things for some young fans, as well as a couple of things for the store owners.  He and Patrick took some selfies with them, too.  Patrick was also a Stanley Cup winner, after all.

The drive home was quiet.  Patrick wasn’t sure what was going on, but he wasn’t about to draw attention to his hugging Gwen, in case Jon hadn’t noticed it.

He’d noticed, however.

No sooner had they walked in the door than Jon turned to face him.

“You wanna tell me who she is?”

“A friend.”  That wasn’t a lie.

“Uh huh.  So, how long’s it been going on?  I’m guessing January?  Maybe December?”

“What?  How long what’s been going on?”

“How long have you been seeing her?”  Jon said accusingly.  He crossed his arms over his chest.  “I would have expected some guy.  Really.  But, I know you’ve dated girls before, so maybe I shouldn’t be that surprised.”

“What are you talking about?”  Patrick huffed and went to step around Jon.  “That’s nuts.  I’m not seeing anyone else.”

“Right.”  Jon grabbed his arm and stopped him.  “Think I don’t notice?  Come on, Patrick.  How long.  Since all the texting started?  The mystery calls?”

“Let go!  I’m not cheating on you, Jon.  For Christ’s sake.  You think I’d do that?”

“I don’t know what to think, Patrick.  You sneak around.  You skip classes.  You didn’t answer my texts.”  Jon fumed.  “You always answer me, no matter what.”

“I told you, my phone got turned off by accident.”  Also, not a lie, even though he’d been at the gym and not at study group.  His phone did get turned off by accident.

“Liar.”

“Jesus, Jon.  I’m not lying.  What the fuck?  What brought this on?”  Patrick pulled his arm out of Jon’s grasp and walked towards the kitchen.  Jon hesitated just for a moment before following him.

“Then what’s going on?  What the hell am I supposed to think?”  Jon stormed into the kitchen hot on Patrick’s heels.  “I know the signs.  The going to the gym again all of the sudden.  Hiding things.  I know what you’re doing.  So, do you love her?  Is that it?  You’re in love with her?”

“I’m in love with you.  You, Jon. Not anyone else.  I definitely do not have a girlfriend on the side.”

“Right.  Tell me another one.”

“Okay.  You wanna know.  I didn’t want to tell you yet.  I was hoping you hadn’t seen Gwen so I wouldn’t have to try and explain.”

“Gwen?  That’s her name?”

“Yes, Gwen Anders.”  Patrick turned and leaned against the counter, his hands holding the edge on either side of his body.  “She’s a personal trainer.  And a, a skating coach.”

“She’s a…” Jon stopped, staring at Patrick, who stared back defiantly.

“She’s a skating coach.  I’ve been skating.”

“What?  I mean, why?”  Jon stammered, at a loss for words.  “That’s what you’ve been doing?”

“I told you I haven’t been cheating on you.”  Patrick said smugly.

“I, uh, I…” 

The look on Jon’s face was priceless, almost worth getting caught, Patrick thought.  Jon was dumbstruck, speechless.  He just stood there, looking at Patrick.

“Well, are you going to apologize or what?”  Patrick straightened and walked past Jon to the fridge.  He took out two bottles of water and sat down at the kitchen table, setting one bottle down in front of a chair for Jon.  “I guess we need to talk.”

Jon stood frozen.

“Jon.  Sit.”

Jon snapped back to the present.  He walked over and sat down, opening the water and taking a long, slow drink.

“You’re skating?”  He finally said, holding the water bottle tightly between his hands.  “I don’t know what to say.”

“Yep.  And how about, oh I’m sorry for thinking you’d ever be a douche and cheat on me, Patrick.  Cause I know that you love me more than anything, Patrick.  And you’d never do anything to hurt me, Patrick.  How about that?”

“Fuck you.”  Jon smiled at last.  “Why wouldn’t you tell me this was what you were doing before now?”

“Cause I didn’t want to get your hopes up, or have you pressure me about it.”

“I wouldn’t…”

“Yeah, you would.  You’d be all over me, pushing me to do this or that.  I needed to wait until I’d found out if this was something I’d want to do.”

“And?  Is it?”

“I think so.”

“Wait.  It’s not just skating then, is it?”  The lightbulb went on over Jon’s head and his eyes lit up hopefully.  “What then?”

“I don’t know yet.”  Okay, that maybe wasn’t the whole truth.  “I’m thinking about coaching in a kids’ league.   Or, maybe, I don’t know, maybe officiating.  I’ve looked in to that, too.”  All true. 

“What about, have you thought about playing again?”  Jon asked cautiously.

“See.  Pushing.”

“Asking isn’t pushing.”

“I’ve thought about it.  Maybe in a rec league.”  Patrick admitted.  That was the truth, too.  But again, maybe not the whole truth.  “Just for fun.”

“Oh.  Okay.” 

Patrick heard the disappointment in Jon’s voice.

“That’s what I’ve been doing.  I meet Gwen at a gym to work out, or at a rink.  We skate, run drills.  Just to see it I still like it and want to do this.  Plus, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to look good for the wedding.”  Patrick put his hand over Jon’s.

“Sharpy thought that.  I didn’t believe him.  I thought.  Well.  I’m sorry.  You’re right, I shouldn’t have ever doubted you.”  Jon smiled.

“I love you.  Okay?  I’m you’re idiot and you’re my uptight, neurotic, boyfriend.”

“God.”  Jon groaned.  “I’m not neurotic.”

“So you’re admitting you’re uptight?”  Patrick cocked his head and smirked.  “Stick up the ass.  Captain Serious?”

“Fuck you.”  Jon tried to sound mad, but it came out softer, with no bite.

“If you’re feeling lucky, you can.”  Patrick grinned.  “Kiss and make up?”

“You’re not mad?”

“No.  Are you?”

Jon thought for a moment, until Patrick huffed at him, then he smiled warmly.  “No.  I get why you wouldn’t tell me until you were ready.  I can be a bit pushy.”

“Ya think?”  Patrick laughed.   Well, that wasn’t as bad as he’d thought it would be, and he seemed to have placated Jon for now.  He wouldn’t have to hide things anymore, that was good.  But he still couldn’t tell Jon what he really hoped he’d be doing. 

That decision had still not been made, not completely. 


	7. Decisions - Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re my man.” Jon said as he pulled back slightly. “And I think I’ll keep you anyway.”
> 
> “Cheesy, Jon.” Patrick giggled. He slipped his hand around the back of Jon’s neck and pulled him back into another kiss.
> 
> In that moment, Patrick made his decision. He knew exactly what he wanted to do.

“Why’d you decide to do this?”  Jon walked next to Patrick as they crossed the parking lot.  Patrick had asked Jon to come with him to the rink to meet Gwen.

“I don’t know.  I missed it.”

“Skating?”

“Hockey.”  Patrick admitted.

Jon stopped, but Patrick kept walking for several paces.  When Patrick finally stopped, he turned and looked at Jon, who had a strange look on his face.  Sharpy called it Jon’s constipated look.  Patrick knew it as the look that came over Jon’s features when he was thinking about something, really contemplating something.

“What?”  Patrick tipped his head, looking at Jon sheepishly through his lashes.  His best coy, shy, innocent look.

“So, if you missed hockey?”  Jon mused out loud.  “Why not?”

“Don’t.  Just don’t.”  Patrick straightened, his posture stiffening in defiance.

“I’m just saying.”  Jon strode over to stand in front of Patrick.  He put his hands on Patrick’s shoulders.  “Are you even considering it?  Is it a possibility?”

“No.”  Patrick lied.  “I haven’t thought about playing in the league again.  Okay.  Just drop it Jon.  You said you wouldn’t push.”

“I’m sorry.”  Jon said, disappointed.  “I won’t push.”

He gave Patrick a quick kiss and they continued on their way into the rink.

Jon sat in the bleachers and watched Patrick run through his drills.  He had a chance to talk with Gwen in private while Patrick changed into his equipment.  She was extremely nice, and extremely supportive of Patrick, practically gushing about how much progress Patrick had made in the short time they’d been training together.  Jon questioned her about what she thought Patrick would, or should, do.  She wouldn’t say.

To Jon, Patrick certainly looked like he could step back out on the ice with the Blackhawks tomorrow.  The speed was still there.  The skills.  Patrick had the softest hands Jon had ever seen and his wrister was as deadly as ever.  Gwen had asked a goalie friend of hers to come so that Patrick could work on shooting.  Jon watched as Patrick beat the guy over and over.  Top shelf.  Five hole.  Glove side.  He watched Patrick come in, breakaway style, deke left and snap the puck just over the guy’s pads. 

It was beautiful to watch.

And it made Jon wonder all the more why Patrick wouldn’t consider playing professionally again.

Later that night, while they were lying in bed just relaxing, Jon thought he’d broach the subject again.  Subtly.  You know, like a bull in a china shop.

“You need to talk to Stan.  You should be playing for the Hawks.”

“Jesus Christ, Jon.”  Patrick slammed the book he was reading down on his lap.

“What?  You know I’m right.  From what I saw today, you’re as good as you ever were.  Better maybe, even.”

“That’s not the fucking point.  You promised.”  Patrick snapped.  “You fucking promised.”

“I’m just saying, Patrick.”

“No.  You’re pushing.  You’re trying to push me into playing because it’s what you want.  You, Jon.  Not, me.”

“So that really wasn’t why you started all this?  Why you’re getting back into hockey?”

“I told you, I missed it, yes.  But I don’t know if I want to play for the Hawks again.  Okay.  I just don’t”

“So, you’d play in the NHL again if it wasn’t for the Hawks?”  Jon goaded.

Patrick swore under his breath.  He threw the covers off his legs and stood up, turning to face Jon.  He held his arms up by his chest, clenching and unclenching his fists.  His face was red with anger, redder than Jon had ever seen it.  And then, Patrick unloaded.

“Look.  That’s it completely.  Fucking right I don’t want to play with the Hawks.  I hate the Hawks.  Right now, I hate you.  So there.  Fuck you.  You said you understood.  You said you’d let me make up my own mind.  But no.  No, the great Jonathan Toews can’t do that.  Won’t let it alone.  So, here’s the fucking truth, Jon.  I don’t know what I want to do, Jon, except that I don’t want to play hockey in the NHL.  Okay.  So, let it go already.”  And with that, Patrick stormed out of the room.

Jon laid there, stung by Patrick’s anger.  He knew.  He knew he shouldn’t have said anything, and yet, he did.  He rolled over and buried his face in his pillow.  He needed to get up.  He needed to go find Patrick.  He needed to say he was sorry.

Jon wasn’t sure how long he laid in bed like that, hoping that Patrick would just come back.  Ten minutes.  Fifteen.  Finally, he dragged himself out of bed and went in search of Patrick.

The house was dark.  Patrick hadn’t turned on any lights, evidently.  Jon thought maybe he’d gone to the kitchen, so he headed that way first.  He was almost there when he heard a cough.  He turned and went to the living room instead.

In the dim light, he could make out Patrick sitting on the couch, back against the armrest, knees drawn up, head down.  He walked over and sat down next to him.

“I’m sorry.”  Jon said softly.  “You’re right.  It’s your decision.”

Patrick didn’t say anything, and kept his head down on his arms.  They sat in silence for a couple of minutes, then Patrick nudged his feet under Jon’s thigh.  Jon laid his hand on the back of Patrick’s head, brushing his fingers through Patrick’s curls.

“Whatever you decide to do,” Jon said, “I’ll support it.  And it’ll be fine, because it’ll be what you want to do.  Just like going to college.  That’s what you wanted and that’s been good.  So, this will be good, too.  Because all I want if for you to be happy.”

“You sure?  You’d be happy no matter what I do?”  Patrick said into his arms.

“Yes.”

Patrick lifted his head slowly.  Jon let his hand slide down to Patrick’s back, rubbing up and down soothingly.  Patrick shifted, pulling his feet out and scooting his butt over towards Jon.  He stretched his legs out over Jon’s lap and tucked himself up against Jon’s side, his head resting easily on Jon’s shoulder.  Patrick sighed.

“I don’t hate the Hawks.”

“I know.”

“I hate you.”

“I know.”  Jon tried not to laugh.  He kissed Patrick’s forehead.  “Té bin nono.”

“Douche bag.”  Patrick snorted.

“So, tell me about what you do want to do.  What’s involved in being an official?”

Jon listened as Patrick explained all the ins and outs of being an official, then he talked about Gwen’s suggestion that he couch a midget team.  Jon offered suggestions and encouragement while Patrick talked.  Patrick truly sounded excited as he talked, which made Jon smile.  If this was really what Patrick wanted to do, he’d get behind it. 

“What about working for the Hawks?”  Jon asked once Patrick had finished. 

Patrick lifted his head and Jon could feel Patrick’s glare burning right through him.

“I mean, the one in management, that they offered for when you graduate.  Would you still take it?  Or would you work somewhere else?  Could you coach or officiate fulltime?”

“I think I’ll still take it.  For now.  So, I have something in case I don’t like coaching or whatever.”  Patrick said.

“You know, you don’t have to work at all.”

“I’m not gonna be your kept man, Jon.”  Patrick laughed.

Jon hooked his hand under Patrick’s chin and tipped his head back, lifting his face up so he could kiss him.  Soft.  Easy.  Lovingly.

“You’re my man.”  Jon said as he pulled back slightly.  “And I think I’ll keep you anyway.”

“Cheesy, Jon.”  Patrick giggled.  He slipped his hand around the back of Jon’s neck and pulled him back into another kiss.

In that moment, Patrick made his decision.  He knew exactly what he wanted to do. 

The next morning he sent Gwen a text. 

_We're taking this all the way._


	8. Jon Is A Pushy Bastard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We can watch some game video. You can call the penalties.” Jon flopped back down on the couch.
> 
> This was not what Patrick wanted to do tonight. He’d hoped just to snuggle on the couch and watch some TV. They were behind on this season’s Game of Thrones episodes and he had hoped to get caught up.
> 
> “How bout we just watch Game of Thrones?” He asked.
> 
> “We can do that later.” Jon already had the video up on his computer.
> 
> This called for drastic measures, or Patrick would be stuck watching video and having Jon point out every penalty that was called, or should have been called.

Patrick sighed.

His phone chimes repeatedly when he turns it back on after walking out of the classroom, text notices coming in rapid succession. 

All from Jon. 

Jon, ever the polite Canadian, apologizing for texting him during class, because he knows Patrick had a test that day.  Jon, forwarding him the contact information for several midget leagues all within easy driving distance from their place.

J:  _Q knows the guys that run this one._

J:  _Stan says this is a good league to get involved with._

J:  _Stan says you should try to become an AHL official.  Says with your hockey experience you’d be good._

That’s all Jonny not pushing Patrick. 

Patrick sighs, again.

Keeping his ultimate goal from Jon isn’t going to be that easy.  He thought he could just keep doing what he was doing, but Jon wants to help him, wants to be a part of this.  Patrick could protest.  He could tell Jon that he wants to do it on his own.  But, no.  That wouldn’t fly.  So, reluctantly, he’s letting Jon be Jon.

P:  _Test went well.  Thanks for asking._

J:  _Sorry.  So how did the test go?_

P:  _Tell Stan and Q thanks for the leads._

J:  _I thought since you got this test done, you could take the officiating test online this weekend._

P:  _Pushing Jon.  I have lots of time for that._

“Yeah, but the sooner you take it, the sooner you can start getting some apprentice time, before all the leagues end for the season.” 

Patrick startles at Jon’s voice behind him.

“What the fuck, Toews.”

“Sorry.  Thought I’d surprise you for lunch.”  Jon hugs Patrick and gives him a kiss.  “We got done early.”

“I was gonna go work-out.”  Patrick said, slipping under Jon’s arm so they could walk together towards the parking lot.

“Even better.”  Jon smiled.  “I’ll come spot for you.  Give Gwen a break.”

“On-ice work-out.”  Patrick stated.  “You don’t want to skate again.”

“I could.  Practice was light.  No game for a couple of days.”

Patrick groaned in his head, no getting around it.  “Okay.  Sure.  We’ll work-out on the ice together.”

“Maybe Gwen would play goalie.  We can do a little one-on-one?”

Competitive bastard.

“I’ll ask.”  Patrick pulled out his phone and texted her.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It wasn’t as bad as Patrick thought it would be, practicing with Jon.  In fact, it was kind of fun.  And, it was also nice having someone who could push him a little.  They did end up playing some one-on-one, which Patrick won.  Afterwards, they got something to eat at Patrick’s favorite taco place, then headed home to spend a quiet evening doing nothing.

At least, Patrick thought they were going to have a nice quiet evening.

“So, have you studied for the officiating test?”

Ugh.

“No.  I really don’t think I need to study, Jon.  It’s just hockey rules.  I think I have that down.”

“Rules have changed in three years, Patrick.  Things are different.  You should study.  I’ll help.”  Jon got up off the couch, disappeared for a few minutes, and came back with his laptop.

“I really don’t need…”  Patrick started to protest.

“We can watch some game video.  You can call the penalties.”  Jon flopped back down on the couch.

This was not what Patrick wanted to do tonight.  He’d hoped just to snuggle on the couch and watch some TV.  They were behind on this season’s _Game of Thrones_ episodes and he had hoped to get caught up.

“How bout we just watch Game of Thrones?”  He asked.

“We can do that later.”  Jon already had the video up on his computer.

This called for drastic measures, or Patrick would be stuck watching video and having Jon point out every penalty that was called, or should have been called.

Patrick reached over and took the laptop, setting it down on the coffee table.  Then, he climbed on Jon’s lap, straddling his legs.  He ran his fingers through Jon’s hair.

“I have a better idea.”  Patrick says seductively.  “How bout we skip the videos, and the TV?”

Jon leans forward, kissing Patrick’s lips.  “I think that would be okay.”

Before long, they’ve relocated to the bedroom.  Patrick is naked, on his back, arms and legs spread eagle.  Jon, also naked, is kneeling between Patrick’s legs, bent over, working Patrick’s cock feverishly in his mouth.  His hands smoothed over Patrick’s chest.

Jon’s fingertips brushed over Patrick’s nipples.  Patrick’s hard, dark, little nipples that Jon teasing told him were the perkiest nipples he’d ever seen.  They were always hard it seemed.  Which, Jon liked.  The tighter Patrick’s shirt, the better, but naked nipples was the best.  Jon rolled the small nubs between his fingertips, and Patrick arched his back, raising his chest into the pain.  Patrick hissed through his teeth when Jon tugged on each nipple.

“Fuck, Jonny.”  Patrick swore under his breath.

There was no doubt that Jonathan Toews was very skilled at sucking dick, at least, sucking Patrick Kane’s dick.  Jon had only the head in his mouth, lips tight around the shaft just under the head.  He sucked hard at the head, tongue flicking over the tip, sliding through the slit.  Patrick enjoyed this intense stimulation, Jon knew.  He tightened his mouth around the shaft more, causing Patrick to swear again, his hands flying to hold Jon’s head.  Patrick tried to get Jon to go down more, but he just kept working over the head and tip.

“Damn Jon.  Too much.”

“Un uh.”  Jon hummed around Patrick. 

“Fuck you.”  Patrick tried to hold Jon’s head still and arch his hips up.  Jon held firm, pinching Patrick’s nipples to make him stop.

“Fuck.  Fuck.”  Patrick whined, his body shaking.  “Jon. Please.”

Patrick had asked that he get to fuck Jon tonight, which was not the norm.  Sure, it was something they did, and they both liked it, but the norm was that if someone was getting fucked, it would be Patrick.  And, Patrick would have been fine with that tonight, except he had ulterior motives.

When Jon was on top, it was great.  But.  After sex that way, or if they just jerked or rubbed off, or if it was just blow jobs, Jon was usually still fairly wound up and full of energy.  Patrick didn’t always understand how, given some of their marathon sex sessions.  But, for whatever reason, sex that way gave Jon energy, which would mean he’d still want to watch hockey video.

That’s why Patrick suggested the switch tonight.  When Jon got fucked, he was done for the night.  Down for the count.  Out like a light.  And, Patrick would get out of watching videos.

“Jon.  You… fuck… you gotta stop… or I’m gonna… fuck, man… you said I could…”

Jon’s mouth came up off Patrick’s cock with a loud pop.  Patrick tried to hold his body still, willing back his orgasm. 

“Sorry.”  Jon dipped his head, looking up at Patrick sheepishly through his lashes.  “I just, I like doing that.”

“No kidding.”  Patrick snorted.

Patrick pushed his legs together as Jon straddled his hips.  Jon handed him a bottle of lube and then leaned his body down over Patrick’s chest.  Patrick squeezed some lube out onto his fingers and tossed the bottle aside.  He reached down to Jon’s ass, spreading his cheeks with one hand, so the other could rub the lube in and around his tight opening.  All the while, Patrick peppered kisses on Jon’s lips, cheeks, nose and forehead.

Patrick waited until he could easily work two fingers in and out of Jon’s ass without Jon’s breath hitching too bad.  When he took his fingers out, Jon sat up, his ass hovering over Patrick’s cock.  Jon reached around behind him and took Patrick’s cock in his hand, giving it a few cursory strokes.  They weren’t really needed, Patrick was still rock hard.  Jon held Patrick’s cock still as he lined it up with his opening and gently eased his hips down, letting the cock slide in slowly.

“Uh.  Oh, fuck.”  Jon murmured.  He kept his eyes focused on Patrick, watching his reaction as Jon took him in. 

Patrick had some of the best sex faces.  Jon loved watching Patrick’s reactions, especially when Jon was riding him.  Patrick’s lips would part, and he’d pant.  Then a flush would start with his ears, spread over his cheeks, and work its way down his neck to his chest, bright red.  A slight sweat would break out on Patrick’s brow.  Finally, he’d lick his lips.  Over and over again.  A low whimper coming from his chest, until Jon would reach down and run his finger over Patrick’s lower lip and slip a finger in Patrick’s mouth, so he could suck on it greedily.  Even when fucking Jon, Patrick still had to be able to get his oral fixation.

Jon worked up and down on Patrick’s cock, pressing down every so often to grind his ass against Patrick’s hips.  He rolled his hips back and forth, around in small circles, back arches and hips tight to Patrick, as if he’s trying to get more of Patrick in him.

“You feel so good.”  Patrick moaned around Jon’s fingers in his mouth.  “Jesus.”

“You wanna come like this?”  Jon questioned.  “Or maybe, with me on my knees for you?”

Patrick thought for a moment.  This was good, pretty much a certainty that Jon would pass out after, but a good doggie-style ass pounding would absolutely guarantee it. 

“Uh, yeah, with you on your knees.  That’d be good, huh.  You like that.”

Jon lifted up and let Patrick slide out, then he moved over so he was on all fours next to Patrick on the bed.  Patrick scrambled up to kneel between Jon’s legs.  He didn’t waist any time lining himself up and thrusting hard into Jon’s ass.

“Uh.  Uh.  Uh.”  Jon gasped with each hard thrust of Patrick’s cock.

Patrick hands clasped tightly to Jon’s hips, holding him still as he hammered into him.  Patrick’s balls slapped hard against Jon.  Jon’s cock jerked and smacked against his abs with each thrust as well. 

Jon dropped his shoulders to the bed and buried his head in the pillow, muffling his cries.  His hand slipped between his legs to trap his cock.  He didn’t even have to stroke it, just hold it tight and he was coming all over himself and the blanket they’d spread out over the bed.

Patrick kept fucking Jon through his orgasm, feeling Jon’s body tense and shudder around his cock.  Patrick felt himself getting close, so he worked to keep up the intense pace.  Just a little more, and…

Patrick came, his come filling Jon’s ass and leaking out around his cock as he slowed his thrusts to long, slow motions.  He collapsed over Jon’s back, his spent cock slipping out of Jon.

“Fuck, Jonny.”

A mumbled sound came from the pillow.

Patrick rolled off Jon and flopped to the bed.  He pulled Jon with him, pulling him tight so he could spoon up against Jon’s back. 

“You wanna take a shower?”  Patrick asked against the back of Jon’s neck, kissing it lightly.

“Mmmmm….”  Jon hummed.

Patrick smiled.  Jon was on his way out already.

“Patrick.”  Jon said softly.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t think for a minute I don’t know what you were doing.” 

Patrick raised himself up, so he could look down at Jon who turned his head to look over his shoulder at Patrick.

“What?”  Patrick shrugged his shoulders.

“Just means we watch the video tomorrow.”

With a groan, Patrick dropped back down to the bed.


	9. Jon's Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There continues to be a nagging fear, like an itch Jon just can’t scratch. Or, more like he can scratch it, but it just won’t go away. Patrick hasn’t done anything about his future from this point. Sure, he’s told Jon that he wants to coach or be an official, or both, but he hasn’t done anything about it. Jon’s been asked a few times by management if Patrick is going to be interested in a job. Jon puts them off each time, saying Patrick wants to wait until after the wedding before he decides on what he wants to do. Which isn’t a lie. It’s what Patrick tells him all the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow... it's been since before the holidays that I updated this story. As many can sympathize, they are a hard time for me. I tried to keep up with writing and drawing, but the best laid plans ya know...
> 
> Anyway... we are through them and it is a new year... hope to update more often... thanks for reading and thanks for sticking with me...

Spring rolls on and Patrick continues to get better every time he skates.  It is like they say, riding a bicycle.  Memory muscle.  Basic skills drilled into him over the years.  He looks like he never missed a single year.

Jon’s skated with him a few more times, Patrick guesses he doesn’t mind.  Jon can push him harder than Gwen.  He hits fucking harder, too, the competitive bastard.  He’s put Patrick into the boards or down on the ice pretty hard.  Yeah, he may apologize, but he still skates away with a wicked, satisfied grin on his face.

Word’s spread among the Hawks that Patrick has taken up hockey again.  They’re all excited for him and have offered to come skate with him, or better yet they say, Patrick could come practice with the team.  Patrick’s not ready for that.  That’s too close to giving away his ultimate plan at the moment and he’s just not ready for that kind of pressure from Jon.  The current level is more than sufficient.

By the first of April, the Hawks have clinched a play-off spot with seven games still left in the regular season.  This is good news.  And bad.  Bad, in that it gives Jon something new to fret over.

“If we make the second round, we’ll probably have a game on the day of your graduation ceremony.”  He stands in the kitchen, his attention fixated on the wall calendar. 

“So?”  Patrick says, way to casually for Jon.

“So?  Are you kidding?  I can’t miss your graduation.”  He pulls out his phone and brings up the play-off schedule from the previous year, comparing dates.  “Crap.”

“You can come to graduation and still play that night.  Relax, Jon.”

“That only works if we play the Stars in the second round.  We play Nashville and we’ll be on the road.”

“Wow.  The play-off teams aren’t even completely set and you’re worrying about it.  You don’t have to be at graduation.  Look, I was thinking about skipping it myself…”

“You can’t.”  Jon spins around, looking horrified that Patrick would even suggest that.

“Why not?  It’s not a big deal.”

“It is.  You’ve worked hard to get done early, and you’re graduating with honors.  Jesus, Patrick.  This isn’t just a big deal, it’s huge.”

“If it’s a choice between watching you at a play-off game or getting handed some piece of paper, guess which I’m picking?”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As it turns out, Jon doesn’t have to worry about it.  The Hawks go out in the first round to Vegas.  Jon mopes for a few days, but then gets over it by filling his time with all things Patrick. 

At least a hundred times a day he grills Patrick on his finals.  Has he studied?  Did he get this paper or that assignment written and turned in?  Did he get his paperwork turned in, so they certify his degree?  Did he pick-up his cap and gown?

At least a hundred times a day he grills Patrick on his status for either coaching or officiating.  Why haven’t you taken the test yet?  Are you worried you’ll fail?  Have you contacted any of the local leagues?  Maybe you could contact the rec leagues?  Q said again that he knows this guy.  Stan will hook you up with this friend of his who coaches. 

At least a hundred times a day he grills Patrick about the wedding plans.  Maman needs to know your guest list.  The invitations should have been out way before this.  We’re still looking at August, right?  Who’s going to be your best man?  Sharpy?  We need to go get fitted for our tuxes.  Should we wear the same color?  You need to decide these things, Patrick.  Are we having a minister or someone else officiate?  Maman wants roses.  Are you okay with roses?  Maybe we shouldn’t have roses.

And, since he has nothing else to do, Jon now goes with Patrick to every work-out, on and off the ice. 

There is no escape.

Graduation day, at least, can’t get here fast enough to suit Patrick.  That will eliminate one issue any way.

\------------------------------------------------------------

May 10th is a beautiful, warm spring day in Chicago, perfect for an outdoor ceremony.  Patrick probably won’t ever admit it, but he’s glad he’s walking the stage.  He’s pretty proud of himself, truth be told.  And, he’s very happy that he has a family there to see him achieve this goal.  After graduation, they’re hosting a party at the house.

Jon looks over the crowd.  He’s sitting with his parents, brother, and Goodie.  Jon’s glad the weather cooperated, and they could hold the ceremony outside, that meant their friends could attend the graduation as well, since there was more seating available.  He found the Sharps are there, Brent, too.  A bunch of the other Hawks have said they’d be at the party.  Jason, Kristy and some of the other people from Patrick’s Place were also there.

And to think, Patrick didn’t want to do this.  Today should be a celebration of all Patrick’s accomplished, how far he’s come in his life.  How successful he is, and he’s going to be, despite all the obstacles and hardships he’s had to overcome.  He deserves… no… they deserve this.  They deserve to be happy.  And, Jon should be happy.

And he is.

But.

There continues to be a nagging fear, like an itch Jon just can’t scratch.  Or, more like he can scratch it, but it just won’t go away.  Patrick hasn’t done anything about his future from this point.  Sure, he’s told Jon that he wants to coach or be an official, or both, but he hasn’t done anything about it.  Jon’s been asked a few times by management if Patrick is going to be interested in a job.  Jon puts them off each time, saying Patrick wants to wait until after the wedding before he decides on what he wants to do.  Which isn’t a lie.  It’s what Patrick tells him all the time.

He can’t figure Patrick out. 

But.

At least they’re talking about things.  Patrick hasn’t shut him out.  Patrick hasn’t taken off.  Patrick is still there, and they are still getting married.  It really should be okay if Patrick doesn’t want to rush into anything with his life.  Jon makes more than enough to support them both.  And if waiting makes Patrick happy, then he can wait.  Patrick deserves to have what he wants, to do what he wants, to be who he wants. 

Jon looks down to where the graduates are seated.  It takes him a minute to find Patrick, but when he does a warmth spreads out from his heart.  He loves this man.  More than anything in the world.  And he would do anything for him.

Patrick’s row stands up and walks to the aisle.  One-by-one they filter onto the stage as their names are read.  Finally, it’s Patrick’s turn.  Jon’s been recording everything so far and he follows Patrick across the stage with his camera, zooming in as Patrick receives his diploma.  David and his mom take picture after picture.  This day is going to be well immortalized in the Toews family scrapbooks. 

Patrick shakes the president of the university’s hand, the dean of his particular college’s hand, and a few other dignitaries.  He strides across the stage and back down to his seat with that Patrick Kane swagger Jon knows so well, a wide grin on his face.

Once he sits down, Patrick turns and scans the crowd.  Jon waves, and Patrick waves back when he sees him.

Jon is so proud of Patrick.  This is a huge day for him.  For them.  Their life together is going to change after today.  There will be a wedding.  Their future looks bright.  Jon should be excited.

Why can’t he shake this fear?


	10. The Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Fucking Jonathan Fucking Toews.” Patrick jammed a couple of cans in the garbage bag. “Fuck him.”
> 
> Patrick grabbed some paper plates that were on the kitchen table and pushed them in the bag.
> 
> “Thinks he can fucking tell me what to do.”
> 
> Patrick reaches for some more cans on the table.
> 
> “Thinks he can control my life.”

The party is fun.  There’s good food.  Friends.  Family.  Cake.  Lots of great conversations.  Games.  Kids.

And, after everyone leaves, a fight.

Well, a disagreement.

A heated discussion.

Patrick keeps trying to downplay it in his mind.

It was stupid.  Patrick knew it the minute the words came out of his mouth that it would be a problem.  But, he was tired.  Tired of Jon pushing.  He’d hoped he could have at least had today, just one day, without Jon harping on everything.

Every time Patrick was talking with someone, Jon would appear.  Two seconds later, Jon would change the conversation to Patrick’s future.  Telling whoever about the coaching offers he was getting.  Telling whoever about how good an official Patrick would be.  Telling them that Patrick needed to do this, or Patrick needed to do that.  It was too much.  Too much hovering by Jon.  Too much pressure.

When Jon started in on Patrick as they were cleaning up, that was the last straw.

Patrick blew.

At first, Jon tried to calm Patrick.  He didn’t want their family, who were resting in their guest rooms, to hear.  Patrick didn’t care.

Patrick stood across the kitchen from Jon, a black garbage bag in his hands, crunching the bag in his fists as he yelled.  Jon just stood there, a stunned look on his face.  Then he’d slowly turned red, his eyes grew dark, his jaw set firm.  Patrick couldn’t be sure, but he thought Jon’s lip was quivering just before Jon let loose with his version of things.

They yelled at each other.  They screamed over top of each other.  Patrick thought Jon was going to throw something at him at one point.  It felt like it lasted forever.  It only lasted a few minutes.

It ended with Jon shouldering past Patrick and storming out of the kitchen.  Patrick heard the front door slam a minute later.  He stood there alone, letting himself calm down, before he went back to cleaning up.  Jamming the trash, cans and stuff, into the bag was very therapeutic.

“Fucking Jonathan Fucking Toews.”  Patrick jammed a couple of cans in the garbage bag.  “Fuck him.”

Patrick grabbed some paper plates that were on the kitchen table and pushed them in the bag.

“Thinks he can fucking tell me what to do.”

Patrick reaches for some more cans on the table.

“Thinks he can control my life.”

He looks up.  Andree’ stands in the doorway glaring at him.  Patrick throws the bag down on the floor.

“Fuck him.  He can clean this fucking mess up when he gets back.”  He says to her as he storms out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

He’s curled up in a fetal position on the bed some time later, eyes closed but not really sleeping.  His back is to the door.  He heard some noises downstairs a while ago, and guesses either Jon’s mom is cleaning up or Jon must be home.  There’s a soft knock at the door to the bedroom.

“Go away.”  Patrick says firmly.

“No.”  The door opens, and Jon sticks his head in cautiously.  “Maman sent you up some tea.”

“I don’t want anything.”  Patrick huffs. 

Jon sets the cup of tea on the nightstand and retreats from the bedroom without saying anything else, without touching Patrick.  A few minutes later, there is another knock.

“I said I didn’t want anything.”  Patrick grumbles.

“I don’t care what you want.”  Andree’ walks in and sits down on the edge of the bed next to Patrick’s back.  She lets her hand rub soothingly, motherly, up and down his back.

“I’m sorry about before.”  Patrick mumbles.  “About my language.  I was piss… I was mad.”

“You don’t think I’ve said worse about his father?  Or about him?”  She says with a lightness to her voice.  That brings a soft snicker from Patrick who rolls over onto his back.

“My son can be rather… difficult to live with.  But you know that after all this time.”  She says softly.  “And he’s a little over-bearing.  And over protective.  I have no idea where he ever got that from.”

She smiles and brushes Patrick’s curls back off his forehead.

“He’s neurotic.”  Patrick snorts.  “I know he didn’t get that from you.”

“Of course not.  That he got from his father.”  She laughs, which makes Patrick laugh.  “No, not really.  Jon’s been, I don’t know, so serious his whole life.  That whole Captain Serious thing, it’s not a joke.  And you know most of his past.  He’s never been very good at relationships.  We were a little worried about him and you.  Bryan was worried.  But the two of you found each other.  You were exactly who the other needed.  And it all worked out.”

Patrick sighs.  “I love him.  He just, he wants to control my life.”

“He doesn’t.  He wants to control his life.  He’s 27.  He has everything he’s ever wanted.  He has you.  He’s afraid of losing that, the way he’s lost things before.  That somehow the world won’t let him have what he wants.”

“He’s not going to lose me.  I keep telling him that.”

“And he hears it.”

“But…”

“He’s neurotic.”  Andree’ says.

Patrick laughs again.  Since the first time he met her, she’s had a way of making him feel better when they talked.  Andree’ was the mother Patrick wished he’d had growing up, maybe his life would have been different.

“So, honey.  What are you planning on doing now?  Job?  More school?  You could go on and get a Master’s degree, or your Doctorate.  You could teach.  So many possibilities.”

“If I tell you, you have to absolutely promise not to breath a word to Jonny.  Oh god, he’d be unbearable if he knew.”

“You’re going to try and play in the league again.”  She stated matter-of-factly. 

Patrick sat up, staring at her, a look of fear on his face.

“How did you?  Does he think that?  Did he say something to you?  How?”  Patrick stammers.

“No.  Relax, honey.  I guessed.  Just say that I know all my boys pretty well.  I suspected when Jon told us you were skating again.  Today, when I watched you talk to some of your friends from the team, you looked happier than I think I’ve ever seen you.”

“God, please don’t tell Jon.  I’m still not sure it’s something I can do yet.  I don’t want to get his hopes up.  You know what that would be like.”

“I won’t tell him if you really don’t want to.  But if you want to get him off your back about things, just fill out what you need to do to coach or whatever.  Humor him.  It got me through a lot of his neurotic episodes by just doing that, playing along shall we say.  It made him happy.  And in the end, all was well.  So that’s my secret for you.  You can’t tell him.”  She smiled and winked at Patrick.

“Deal.”  Patrick said, letting her pull him in for a hug.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that night, Patrick wandered back downstairs.  Jon and David were sitting on the couch playing Mario Kart.

“You wanna play?”  David asked, not bothering to look up.

“Nah.  Uh, Jonny, can we talk?”

Jon glances over at him.  Patrick has some papers in his hand.  He nods his head toward the kitchen.

“Please.”

Jon gets up of the couch and tosses the controller at David, who yelps and complains about the interruption.  Jon follows Patrick out to the kitchen, where they sit down at the table.  Patrick slides the papers across to Jon.

“What’s this?”

“First.  I’m sorry.  I’m sorry I yelled.”

“You should be.” 

Patrick bites his tongue.  Typical bastard.  He continues, “Second.  You’re right.”

“What?  That’s got to be about choking you to say.”  Jon snaps.  He picks up the papers and looks at them.  “What exactly am I right about this time?”

“I need to decide what I want to do.”  Patrick says calmly.  “I signed up for some coach-in-training sessions that are being offered over the summer.  And I registered to take the officiating test.”

Jon read the papers.  One was a copy of Patrick’s test registration.  Another was the confirmation email.

“Monday, I’m gonna go over and talk to Stan about a job.”  Patrick told him.  The next part was the only thing he wasn’t lying about wanting to do.  “I’d really like to work for the Hawks.”

“Wow.”  Jon looked up from the paperwork.  “What brought all this on?  Is this because we had a fight?”

“No.”  Patrick shrugs.  “Maybe.  Look, I said you were right.  Don’t push it.”

“I don’t want you to do something just because of me.  I want you to do it because you want to.”

Patrick pushed his chair away from the table, huffed and stood up. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Jon.  I can’t fucking win.”  Patrick stormed over to the sink, standing with his back to Jon, his hands gripping the edge of the counter top.  “You’ve been telling me to do something for months and when I finally do it, you tell me I shouldn’t have done it.”

Jon gets up and walks over to Patrick.  He stands behind him, arms at his side, afraid to reach out and touch Patrick for fear of starting another fight.

“I just meant that what I’ve been saying is that you need to do what you want to do, Patrick.  That’s all I want.  I’m sorry.”

“No.”  Patrick shakes his head slowly.  “No, I’m sorry.  I know that.”

Patrick’s bent over.  He straightens and leans back against Jon, who slides his arms around Patrick’s waist.  Patrick lays his arms over Jon’s.

“I just want…”

“I know, Jonny.  I know.”  Patrick rests his head on Jon’s shoulder.  “I’m not going anywhere.  I promise.”


	11. With This Ring...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The minister pronounces them husband and husband, and with that, they’re married.
> 
> Patrick’s never looked happier in the time Jon’s known him. 
> 
> This was the right thing. Patrick was right. This was them. Simple. Short. Full of love.

“What if we didn’t have a big wedding?”  Patrick sits on the dock at the lake cabin, dangling his feet over the water.  Jon is stretched out on his back on a blanket next to him.

It’s mid-June, they’ve been here for a week.  Jon’s been working out with him, but Patrick is missing his time with Gwen.  He doesn’t feel like he can slack off if he wants to make the team again.  He needs to work all summer.  But, there’s a wedding in the way.

“What?”  Jon shades his eyes with his hand and squints up at Patrick.  “You don’t want to get married?”

“That’s not what I said, Jon.”  Patrick sighs.  “I said, maybe we don’t need to have a big wedding.”

Jon puts his arm down and closes his eyes again.  “That won’t make Maman any too happy.”

“Yeah, I know.  That’s the problem.”

Jon shades his eyes and squints up again.  “What’s going on?”

“I’m just, I don’t know, nervous, I guess.  About the wedding.  I wish we could just get married here.  By the lake with just our family here.”  Patrick moves so he’s lying down beside Jon.  “Wouldn’t that be nice, Jonny.  More… us.”

Jon’s quiet for a moment.  “Is that really what you’d like?”

Patrick hesitates.  He hears it in Jon’s voice.  It’s the ‘I’d do anything for you’ voice.  Patrick doesn’t want Jon to not have what he wants, but…

“No.  We have the wedding all set.  It’ll be great.”  He snuggles into Jon’s side, resting his head on Jon’s chest.  He smells of coconut sunscreen and lake.  Patrick breathes in deeply and sighs. 

Jon wraps his arms around Patrick and draws lazy circles on his shoulder.  His mom won’t be happy.  But, for Patrick, he’ll make it work somehow.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Jonathan.  Really?  You can’t be serious about this.”  It’s the serious mother tone.  He knows where he gets it from for sure.  “The invitations have gone out.  We’re getting RSVPs back.  People have made travel plans, booked flights, hotels.  You can’t just suddenly call the whole thing off.”

“We’re not calling it off.  Completely.”  Jon attempts to reason with her.  And, himself.

“That’s what it sounds like.  I don’t understand.” 

This would have been so much easier in person.  As is, he’s standing in one of the few spots at the lake where he has cell service.

“We just want to get married here.  A quiet ceremony.  We could still have a big reception in August.  If that’s what you want.”  He’s trying to balance the two most important people in his life.  This is going to be dicey. 

“I don’t see the point of that.”

“The wedding here or the reception later?”

“Both.  I thought this was all planned.  Settled.  What’s changed?”

“Patrick.  He’d like a simple wedding.  And, he wants to go back to Chicago for the summer.  Says he’d like to get started working.  For the Hawks.”  Jonathan tells her.  “So, I guess it would be easier to him if we could just get married now.”

He can hear her, knows exactly what she’s doing.  Her fingers are tapping lightly at the table where she’s sitting.  She’s rolling her eyes.  Now it’s face-palm time.  She rubs her eyes with her fingertips and takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly.  It’s the same reaction he got a million times growing up, when he did something that tried her patience.  He knew the minute he heard her sigh that he’d gotten his way.

“Okay, dear.  We’ll take care of things.  Saturday?  Just us.  Will that work for you and Patrick?  Then you can go back to Chicago and come up again in August for the reception.  We’ll send out a notice.”

“Oui.  Merci, Maman.  Je t’aime.” 

“Je t’aime.  And it’s a good thing, too.”  She replies warmly. 

\--------------------------------------------

Saturday is a beautiful summer day.  Warm, but with a nice, light breeze blowing in over the lake. 

Jonathan holds Patrick’s hand.  He can’t believe they are really doing this.  He hears the minister’s words.  Repeats his lines.  But he’s shaking inside and too overwhelmed by everything to comprehend what’s being said.  Patrick repeats his vows.

Jonathan slips the ring on Patrick’s finger.  “With this ring, I thee wed.”

Patrick slides a matching ring on Jon’s hand.  “With this ring, I thee wed.”

The minister pronounces them husband and husband, and with that, they’re married.

Patrick’s never looked happier in the time Jon’s known him. 

This was the right thing.  Patrick was right.  This was them.  Simple.  Short.  Full of love.

Jon rest his hands on Patrick’s shoulders as he kisses him to seal the deal, as the minister said.  Patrick melts into his arms, tucking his shoulder to Jon’s neck briefly.

“I love you, Jonny.”  Patrick whispers.  “With all my heart.”

“Je t’aime.  Té bin nono.”  Jon whispers back.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The minister can’t stay, he offers his congratulations and departs, leaving the five of them alone to celebrate the nuptials.  It’s nothing spectacular, or even that special.  Steaks, lobster, shrimp and potatoes grilled, a couple of Andree’s homemade salads, and a cake for dessert. 

Jon, David and Bryan are gathered around the grill, each with their own ideas about how the steaks should be done.  The sounds of their laughter and friendly banter filters in to the kitchen where Patrick is helping Andree’ get the salads ready.

“So.  You two aren’t going to stay the summer?  Going back to Chicago?”

“Uh huh.”  Patrick nods.

“I assume that has to do with your training and plans?”  Andree says. 

Patrick looks around nervously, making sure Jon isn’t close enough to hear.

“Yeah.  Sorry for ruining your big wedding plans.” 

“Oh, honey, you didn’t ruin anything.  This was beautiful, and I just want you and Jonathan to be happy.  I had to give him a hard time.  But, I guessed that was what was going on.  You haven’t told him yet?”

“No.  Not yet.”

“Have you talked to Mr. Bowman?  Or, anyone with the Hawks about it?”

“Yeah.  I snuck out for lunch with Stan before we came home.”

“And?” 

“He’s excited.  I’ll have to be good enough to make the team on my own, but he’s positive I’ll be able to do it.  Said the Hawks would have no trouble giving me a PTO contract, then we’d work something out if… I mean, when… I make the team.”  Patrick doesn’t sound so confident, though.

“You don’t think you’ll be able to do this?”

“I hope I can.  I think I can.  I just don’t know.”

“Jon gushes all the time about how good you are.  He certainly thinks you could step on the ice right now and lead them to another cup.”  Andree’ smiles, trying to ease Patrick’s doubts.

“My biggest fan.”  Patrick chuckles.  “He’s always wanted me to play, since we first got together.  He said I shouldn’t let what happened take hockey away from me.  I fought that, especially after… after the kidnapping… but now, now I think maybe he knew something I didn’t.”

“What’s that, honey?”

“That hockey wasn’t why things happened.  It wasn’t why he, my coach, or even my family, it wasn’t why they did what they did.  And hockey was always my safe place.  Funny, huh.”

“Not so funny.  It’s always been Jonny’s safe place.  Being on the ice.  It’s where he could be himself.  Be the best.  Show people that he could do it.  Maybe he saw that with you, too.  That you could do this, be great, despite them.”

“Maybe.”  Patrick muses.  He turns and wraps his arms around her, giving her a tight hug.  “I just know I really lucked out that night Jon picked me up.  I got the best family, and the absolute best Maman in the world.”

“And I got another son.”  Andree’ smiled as she hugged him back.  “And don’t you dare tell Jonathan or David, but you’re the best.”

That made them both laugh.


	12. Busted!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick’s in the kitchen cooking dinner while Jon just hangs out. Jon’s in the living room, flipping channels on the TV. Nothing looks interesting.
> 
> “How long til food?” He hollers out to Patrick.
> 
> “Fifteen, maybe twenty.” Patrick yells back.
> 
> Jon turns the TV off and picks up his laptop, turning it on and waiting for it to boot. He opens his browser and clicks on the bookmark for sports news. His eyes widen as he reads the first headline.
> 
> Patrick Kane signs PTO with Chicago Blackhawks.

Patrick goes through the motions, everything to keep Jon from knowing his true goal.  He’s doing online classes, well, work at your own pace, non-graded, coaches training.  He’s still signed up for the class the end of August that will be hands-on stuff for officiating.  He’s been reading the rules, Jonny quizzing him daily.  And, he’s been working out hard. 

He feels great.  He looks great.

Patrick’s managed to sneak away for a couple more meetings with Stan, and for a meeting with Stan and Q.  He’d like to get a day on the ice alone with the coach before training camp starts.  Just to get a feel for what he thinks about Patrick’s chances to make the team.

July speeds by and before Patrick knows it, it’s August.  They fly back to Winnipeg for the big wedding party.  There are a lot of guests invited.  Neither of them are really looking forward to it.

The venue is beautiful.  The weather is beautiful.  The decorations are beautiful.  The cake is beautiful.

Beautiful.  That’s Patrick’s word of the day.  Everything is… beautiful.                                        

He and Jon do all the wedding reception things a couple is supposed to do, even though this doesn’t feel like a wedding reception.  It’s just a party.  But still… they have a first dance, they cut their cake, they have a dance with a groom dance thing.  It’s all just… beautiful.

Patrick’s been cornered by just about everyone at some point, all wanting to know about his skating and what’s ahead for him.  Most of the team have tried to convince him to come practice with them more often, especially if he’s working in the front office.

If only they knew.

Jon, for his part, struts around all day looking like the cat that ate the canary.  Bragging about Patrick.  Telling everyone how happy he is to be married.  Talking about how he’s looking forward to the season.  Talking about who knows what with everyone.  He hovers, though, always within site, or touch, of Patrick. 

Somehow, they get through the day without any hitches.  It’s all good.  It’s all… just beautiful.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s getting harder to keep this charade up around Jon the closer they get to training camp.  It’s early September and camp is a couple of weeks away.  The team is filtering back to Chicago and Jon’s getting texted everyday about a pick-up game or workout that they want him to come to.  As always, they include the line _Bring Patrick._  

Patrick would love to go.  He’s anxious at this point.  A pick-up game would give him a good idea of how he stacks up against the others.  Is he still fast enough?  Can he still snipe?  Can he take a hit?

The problem would be that going to practice draws attention.  Yeah, sure, it could easily be explained as just being there to hang with his husband, but there’s always that one asshole that will want to dig deeper.

He’s met with Stan several times since they got back from Winnipeg.  They have a good deal worked out if Patrick makes the team.  Stan tells him over and over that he’s confident Patrick will be playing for the Hawks.  Patrick keeps his fingers crossed and hopes that’s true.

Patrick’s job with the Hawks, working in statistical analysis, starts the week before training camp.  He’ll be one of the guys working on looking at players’ stats, reviewing numbers, and putting together information for the coaches on who might work on a line together, at least on paper.

The Friday before that, however, several things happen that alter Patrick’s plans to surprise Jon on the first day of training camp.  Call them, a series of unfortunate events.

First, Patrick gives in and goes to Johnny’s Icehouse with Jon for a pick-up game with a bunch of the team.  It’s early morning, and no one should really be around or paying attention to who’s on the ice. 

Wrong.

Shortly after they clear the ice, several videos pop up on Twitter and Instagram of the Hawks screwing around on the ice.  Several captions and comments point out that Patrick Kane is among the players there, and oh, isn’t it great about he and Jon being married, and wow, he looks good on the ice, and hey, why’s he there, and…

The videos go viral.  They get noticed by a few of the Hawks beat reporters.  One in particular takes notice.  Didn’t he see Patrick Kane out to lunch with Stan Bowman a week ago?

Meanwhile, in the Hawks hockey operations offices, it’s business as usual.  An intern is putting together a list of players who will be attending training camp.  Only Stan and a couple of others know about Patrick’s professional try-out contract, and they’ve neglected to tell anyone that it is not for release yet.  So.  the intern sorts through the contracts and adds the name Patrick Kane to the training camp list.

The list and contract information get forwards to the League, and to Hawks PR.  It’s standard to just release transaction information in a general press release to various media locations.  Nobody has said not to send out the days information. 

By that afternoon, the beat reporters have the training camp list, and Hawks current player contract updates.

The cat is out of the bag.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

Patrick’s in the kitchen cooking dinner while Jon just hangs out.  Jon’s in the living room, flipping channels on the TV.  Nothing looks interesting.

“How long til food?”  He hollers out to Patrick.

“Fifteen, maybe twenty.”  Patrick yells back.

Jon turns the TV off and picks up his laptop, turning it on and waiting for it to boot.  He opens his browser and clicks on the bookmark for sports news.  His eyes widen as he reads the first headline.

_Patrick Kane signs PTO with Chicago Blackhawks._

Jon clicks on the link for hockey.

_Hawks Rookie Sensation Making a Comeback_

_Patrick Kane On Ice At Informal Hawks Practice_

_Patrick Kane Returning to Hawks_

_Patrick Kane Comeback at 25_

Jon reads a few of the articles.  There’s talk about the videos.  And one reporter has photos of Patrick skating with Gwen.  And quotes from the rink manager.  And from one of the guys who played goalie for them.

“Yeah, he’s been working on his skating for a few months now.”

“He’s been practicing here since January.  Working with a personal trainer.  I talked to him one day and he said he wants to get back in the NHL.  Said he missed the game.”

“I think he’s got a good shot at it.  He’s only what, 25, that’s the age a lot of guys are just getting into the league for the first time, so it’s not old.”

“He said if he gets cut by the Hawks, he may try to get picked up by another team.  He wants to play.”

Jon’s heart feels like it skips a beat, his breath rushing out of his lungs.  His eyes fix on that line.  Play for another team.  He can’t breathe.  He can’t think.  His mind is whirling at the possibilities.

Patrick playing.

Patrick a Hawk again.

Patrick playing.

Patrick leaving him to play on another team.

Patrick leaving him.

Jon’s shaking.  He feels like he’s going to be sick.  He pushes at the laptop and it falls to the floor with a thud.  A couple of seconds later, Patrick appears in the doorway.

“Jon?  What’d you drop?”

Jon stares up at him blankly.

“Jonny?  What’s wrong?  What happened?”

Patrick rushes over to Jon, worried by the fear on Jon’s face.

“Is it Maman?  Dad?  What?  What happened?  Did somebody die?  Is it…”  Patrick picks up the laptop and sees the headline of the article Jon was reading. 

“Shit.”  He whispers.  “Oh shit.”

“Patrick?”  Jon asks, his voice wavering.


	13. Breakdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Jon. Jon. Jonny!” Patrick said, getting more forceful with each word. “Stop. I’m right here. Nobody’s taking me. Jesus, you’re scaring me. Please, Jon. Stop. It’s okay.”
> 
> Jon bolted out of the kitchen. Shocked, it took Patrick a second to react and go after him. Jon, two steps ahead, got to the bathroom and slammed the door shut in Patrick’s face.
> 
> “Jon!” Patrick hammered on the door. “Jon let me in!”
> 
> He reached for the knob and was surprised when it turned in his hand, the door not locked. He pushed it open. Jon was sitting on the edge of the tub, rocking his upper body back and forth.

Even though Jon had been lonely growing up, he’d never really felt depressed or had a lot of anxiety, at least not that he would identify as any type of mental health issue.  His mother might disagree, but Jon never equated being lonely with being depressed.  He was just lonely.  He’d always been able to handle it, though.

But when Patrick was taken from him…

…everything changed.

Patrick spent the better part of the last three years in therapy, learning to deal with what happened, with all the past abuse.  Jon had gone with Patrick to some sessions that first year.  They had worked on their relationship in light of the kidnapping and abuse.  Mostly they had focused on Patrick and skimmed over Jon’s feelings.  He’d just buried them, like the loneliness.  Don’t let anyone see it.  Be strong.  Be there for Patrick.

Patrick calls Jon neurotic.  Andree’ does, too.  He wasn’t always that way, though.  At least, not to him.  No, it got worse after Patrick’s abduction.  He became more of a worrier.  Worried Patrick would be taken.  Worried Patrick would leave.  All irrational fears, of course.  But…

Irrational fears are only irrational when they are someone else’s fears.

The worrying had gotten worse when Patrick had started working-out and getting in shape.  Jon had been sure Patrick had fallen in love with someone else and was leaving him.  That’s when the panic attacks had hit.  Nothing severe at first, alleviated some when he found out Patrick hadn’t been cheating on him.  But as time went on, they kept coming back.  The fight after the graduation party had brought on a severe one, but nobody knew because Jon had fled the house in order to hide it. 

Now, sitting on the couch, staring at the articles about Patrick playing in the league again.  Reading quotes that said Patrick would be willing to go to another team to play.  Willing to leave Jon.  It was too much.  Wild thoughts ran through Jon’s head.  He couldn’t focus on anything.  He couldn’t think about anything except Patrick leaving. 

Jon heard Patrick come in.  Heard his voice.  Jon stared blankly at the laptop on the floor.  He felt Patrick’s hand on his arm.  Jon looked up.

“Patrick?”  Jon asks, his voice wavering.

Patrick sets the laptop on the table and sits down on the couch next to Jon. 

“I’m sorry.  I should have told you.”  Patrick expected anger.  What he saw on Jon’s face wasn’t anger.  “Jonny, what’s wrong?”

“I.  It.  You.”  Jon stammered.  He shook his head back and forth.  “No.  No.  Not again.”

“Jon?”  Patrick tried to take Jon’s hands, but Jon pulled them away violently. 

“No.”  Jon snapped.  He jumped up off the couch and took several steps before his legs gave out and he collapsed to the floor.  Patrick was at his side in an instant.

“Jon?  Jonny?  What?  What’s wrong?”  Patrick got Jon rolled over and held him to his chest, rocking him back and forth.  Jon just kept saying the word no, tears rolling down his cheeks.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

“He’s sleeping.”  Patrick closed the door behind Sharpy.  “I didn’t know who else to call.”

“His mom?”

“She’s gonna be on her way down.  I meant, I didn’t know anybody here in Chicago.”

“Uh huh.  What the hell, Peeks.  You keep a secret like this from all of us?”  Sharpy smacked Patrick on the chest with a copy of a newspaper.  “Nice.”

“I know.  Okay.  I know.  But this is more than just that.  I don’t know what’s wrong.  He just, he fell apart.  It took me forever to get him quieted down enough to get him to bed.  He’s just like, out of it.”  Patrick sighed, hanging his head.  “Scared the hell out of me.” 

Sharpy slipped his arms around Patrick’s shoulders and pulled him in to a hug.  “We’ll figure it out.  It’s Jon, right, how bad can it be.”

“It’s bad.”  Patrick breathed against Sharpy’s chest.  “It’s bad.”

“Come on, let’s sit.  Tell me what happened.”  Sharpy guides Patrick to the living room.  Patrick sits down on the couch and Sharpy sits in a chair. 

“So, he found out I’m gonna be trying to play for the Hawks again.  I’ve been training and talking to Stan.  They’re giving me a PTO.”

“So I read.  I don’t see why that would have upset Jonny so much.  I think he’d have been thrilled, he didn’t want you to quit to begin with.”

“I know.  I thought if anything he’d be mad at me.  But, he…  he just kept saying no, not again, and he was shaking and crying and I couldn’t get him to stop and it was like he couldn’t hear me and he was just so bad and…”  Patrick says it all in one long rush of words.

“Do you know what the articles said?  Have you read them?”

“No.”  Patrick shakes his head.  “What do they say?  You read them?”

“If you don’t make the Hawks, are you gonna try for another team?”

“No.  Of course not.”

“You never said you would go somewhere else?”

“No.”  Patrick grimaces.  “Shit.  Did they say that?”

“Yep.”

“But why would Jon?  I don’t get it.  I’ve told him a thousand times that I’m not leaving.”

“I don’t know, Peeks.  But I do know that he worries about that.  For whatever reason.”

“Shit.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------

Sharpy’s been gone for a couple of hours, and Patrick’s warming up the dinner he’d been cooking when Jon had his episode.  He’s got his back to the doorway, standing at the microwave, when he hears a noise behind him, slippers shuffling across the floor.  Patrick turns around slowly.

Jon’s eyes are red, his hair disheveled.  He’s changed into a pair of sleep pants and a sweatshirt.  He’s got his hands tucked into the front pocket, his shoulders hunched forward, making him seem much smaller that Patrick.

“Hey, you’re up.  How’re you feelin?”  Patrick asks, walking over to Jon.  He hesitantly reaches out and touches Jon’s arm.   When Jon doesn’t pull back, Patrick dips his head down so he can give Jon a kiss.

“When were you going to tell me?”  Jon says quietly, almost inaudibly.

“Well, I was hoping to wait until camp started.  Cause you know how you are, you’d have been hounding me all the time.”  Patrick chuckled, trying to kid with Jon about it, lighten the mood.

“No.  When were you going to tell me you’re leaving?”

“I’m not leaving, Jon.  How many times do I have to tell you that.”  Patrick’s tone became more serious.  “I mean it.”

“He took you.”  Jon kept his head down, never looking up at Patrick once.  “He took you and now they’ll take you.  They’ll take you from me again.”

“Jon.”  Patrick cupped Jon’s face and lifted it, making him look up.  “I’m not leaving.  Why would you think that?”

“He took you.”  Jon’s eyes glazed over again, and he pulled away from Patrick’s touch.  “They’ll take you.”

Patrick dropped his arms to his side.  Jon’s eyes were wide with fear.  He was staring at Patrick, but it was as if he couldn’t see him.  Jon’s body started shaking, his breathing getting irregular.

“Jon.  Jon.  Jonny!”  Patrick said, getting more forceful with each word.  “Stop.  I’m right here.  Nobody’s taking me.  Jesus, you’re scaring me.  Please, Jon.  Stop.  It’s okay.”

Jon bolted out of the kitchen.  Shocked, it took Patrick a second to react and go after him.  Jon, two steps ahead, got to the bathroom and slammed the door shut in Patrick’s face.

“Jon!”  Patrick hammered on the door.  “Jon let me in!”

He reached for the knob and was surprised when it turned in his hand, the door not locked.  He pushed it open.  Jon was sitting on the edge of the tub, rocking his upper body back and forth.

“Jon?  What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.”  Jon whispered.  His eyes stared blankly at the floor. 

Patrick sat down next to Jon and draped his arm over Jon’s shoulders.

“I’m not gonna go anywhere.  I’m not gonna play for anybody except the Hawks.  You know that, right?”

Jon nodded his head slowly but kept rocking.  Patrick couldn’t be sure Jon was comprehending anything at the moment. 

“It’s okay, Jon.  It’s okay.”  Patrick sighed.


	14. Talking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Okay. Here are my thoughts right now. I think I have enough to put together a diagnosis. Not because I’m big on them, but they seem important to other people. And, I think we should put together a treatment plan to work on over the next several months.”
> 
> “Months?” Jon questions. He shakes his head. “I can’t do this for months. I don’t need to do this. I’m just here cause they’re making me come.”
> 
> Jon gets up and starts toward the door. Then he stops and turns back.
> 
> “What’s wrong with me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings... talk of ptsd... suppressing emotions... panic attacks.... lots going on with Jon here....

“I don’t know.”  Jon’s staring at the floor, watching the carpet change shades as he scuffs his foot back and forth over it.  “It didn’t happen to me.  It happened to Patrick.”

“You were attacked, too.  He left you for dead, right?”  Stacie asks.  She’s a therapist.  Not Patrick’s.

Jon sits in her office the day after his breakdown.  By the time his mother got there this morning, Jon was feeling better.  He told them he didn’t need to see anyone.  Patrick and Andre disagreed.  Based on what Patrick told them, Stan, Q, and the team doctor all disagreed.  They got him in to see Stacie on an emergency basis.  Jon spent the first half hour telling her about Patrick’s abduction.  Just the facts, not how he’d handled it. 

“I think he’d have killed me, but I think Patrick came home before he could.”

“During the time Patrick was gone, did you get counseling?”

“I talked to somebody once, management insisted.  I was too focused on finding Patrick.”

“Had you ever gone through something traumatic in your life before that?  Lost someone?  Or anything traumatic?  Accidents?  Bullying?  Had you ever talked to anyone before that?”

“No.  And… no.”  Jon stopped scuffing his foot.  “I… no, nothing bad.”

“Jonathan?”

“Well, if I didn’t think it was bad, then it wasn’t, right?”

“Not always.  What was it?”

Jon sits perfectly still, his hands together on his lap.  Stacie waits through several seconds of uncomfortable silence.

“Okay.  We’ll come back to that.  So, what caused you to have the panic attack yesterday?  What was going on?”

Jon tells her, as best he can remember, what happened.  It’s all a bit foggy in his brain.  As he talks, though, his leg starts bouncing rapidly.  He wrings his hands in his lap.  His face flushes.

“Okay.  Okay.”  Stacie says.  “That’s enough.  I get the picture.”

“What?”  Jon pauses. 

“You’re clearly upset.”

Jon freezes. 

“It’s okay.  It’s to be expected.”  Stacie writes a few things on her tablet.  “We have some work to do.  That’s all.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

She tells him she’d like to see him every day, for a while, if that’s alright.  Jon agrees.  He’ll make it work around his schedule, even with training camp starting.  He’d rather do this and get it out of the way than have Patrick and his mom harping on him about it every minute.

The next day, she asks him about his feelings.

“Like what?”  Jon asks back.

“I mean, how do you feel about things.”

“I feel fine.”

“What are you feeling right now?”  Stacie asks.  “Give me five words that you feel.”

“Um.  I really don’t understand.”

“Do you ever think about what you’re feeling about things?”

“No.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

Stacie rights down some notes. 

“Jonathan, how would you feel if Patrick left?  If he went to play on another team?”

“I’d be upset.  But if that’s what he wanted to do, I’d let him do it.  And I guess I’d have to be okay with it.”  Jon’s leg is bouncing again.  His hands clench and unclench at his sides.  He stares at the floor.

“What are you feeling right now?”

Nothing.

“Jonathan?”

“I’m…  I’m…”  Jon stammers.  “I…”

“What?”

“I hate him.”  Jon gets up and paces back and forth, his face beet red.  He’s clearly agitated.

“Who?”

“Patrick.”  Jon blurts out.

He stops moving.  He stands there for a moment, looking lost, shocked at what he just said. 

“I can’t…”  Jon bolts out the door.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

“I don’t know why I said that yesterday.”  Jon sits quietly on the couch across from Stacie.  “I don’t hate Patrick.  Obviously.  I love him.”

Jon hadn’t finished his session yesterday.  After he’d said he hated Patrick, he’d gotten up and stormed out.  Stacie hadn’t been sure he would come back today, or at all.

“Why’d you say it then?”

“I don’t know.  And, I’m sorry.  For running out.”

“I think you do know why you said it.  It’s okay, you know, to be mad at him.”  Stacie says.  “It’s normal to get mad at people for things.  Even people we love.”

“But I don’t hate him.”

“While he was gone before, how did you feel?”

“Feelings?  Don’t you think we should be figuring out what’s wrong with me?”

“We are.”

Jon huffs.  He sits there fiddling with the material on the couch cushions.  “Fine.  I was scared.  I was afraid Patrick would never be found.”

“Did you think he’d kill Patrick?”

“No.  I never thought he’d hurt Patrick like that.”  Jon lifts one arm and holds it across his chest, wrapping his hand around his other bicep.  His foot starts tapping.

“You just thought he’d never come back?”

Jon’s leg starts to bounce.  He shifts in his seat.  His breathing quickens and becomes irregular.

“Jonathan?”

“He’s going to leave.  They’re going to take him.”

“Who’s going to take him?”

“I don’t know.  But he’s going to be gone and he won’t come back.  And I’ll be… he’ll be…”

Stacie gets up and moves to sit next to Jon, who is now rocking back and forth.

“Jonathan.  It’s okay.”  She tries to calm him.  “Patrick’s safe.  He is.  He’s not gone.”

It takes a good fifteen minutes for her to get Jon calmed back down. 

“I tried… I tried so hard…  I didn’t want to think it…  I didn’t…”  Jon gets out between stuttered breaths.  “I had given up…  I gave up… hoping…”

“That Patrick would be found?”

“That Patrick was alive.”

“That’s not a bad thing.  I think most people would have had that thought, too.”

“No.  Not me.”

“Why not you?”

“Because.  I don’t let myself…  I don’t…  I don’t let myself…”  He clams up then, crossing his arms over his chest and holding himself tightly, he’s still rocking back and forth.

“You don’t let yourself feel?”

“It hurts too much.”

“What?”

“Feeling.”  Jon whispers.

\-------------------------------------------------------------

“You love Patrick.  You’ve certainly shown him your feelings.”  Stacie says during their next session.

“I do.  And, I guess I have.”  Jon says flatly.  “I think, maybe, Patrick was the first person outside my family that I really let in, that I let get close to me.”

“Did you date before him?  Have a boyfriend?  Girlfriend?”

“I dated.  A couple of guys.”

“What happened to end those relationships?”

“I, uh, I wouldn’t have sex with the one.  And the other, he met somebody else.”

“So Patrick was the first serious relationship you feel you’ve ever had?”

“Yeah, I’d say that.”

“Why do you hate Patrick?”

Jon had been staring at the floor again, but his head shot up at her question.

“I don’t.”

“You said you did.  Why?”

“I don’t hate him.”  Jon repeated.

“Jonathan, how would you describe your childhood?  Growing up playing hockey?  Did you have friends outside of hockey?  Did you have any other interests?”

“It was good.”  Jon shifted uncomfortably.  “I played video games.  I went to school.  I played hockey.”

“Did you have friends?”  Stacie persisted.

“Sure, of course.”  Jon reached up and itched his nose.

“So, you didn’t have a lot of friends.”  Stacie states.

“I said I did.”  Jon rubs the palm of his hands on his thighs.

“Your body language is telling me something different.”  Stacie admits to him.  She’s not sure she should point out to him that she’s on to him.

Jon gets up and paces around the room.  Stacie’s concerned.  The last time he did this, he ran out.

Jon’s got his arms crossed over his chest.  He paces over to the window and stands there, looking out at the park that the office building overlooks.  He chews nervously on his lower lip for several seconds before turning around to look at Stacie.

“I never had any friends growing up.  None, really.”  Jon tells her solemnly.  “This is all confidential, right?  You can’t tell people what I tell you.”

“Strictly confidential.  Yes.”

“Do you know how I met Patrick?”

Stacie shook her head.

“He had run away from his coach who was abusing him.  He was 17.  I was 19.  I picked him up on a street corner where he was working as a prostitute.”

“Because you wanted to be able to have sex without anyone finding out you’re gay?”

“No.  Because I wanted a friend.  We didn’t have any kind of sex for a long time.  I would just bring him home to play video games and to keep me company.  I’d been picking up this other kid before that.  I never had sex with him.”

Stacie looked confused, just for a second, before she hid her emotions again.  Jon saw it, though.

“I wanted somebody to like me.  For me.  Not because I could play hockey.  Not because I was in the NHL.  Just for me.”

“And you fell in love with Patrick.”

Jon wandered back to the couch and sat down.  He buried his face in his hands for a minute, then looked up.

“It’s easier.  Not feeling.  Not caring.  I could just focus on my hockey and forget about how lonely I was.  I watched other people have friends, have boyfriends, girlfriends, whatever.  And yet, I was so alone.  Then I had Patrick.”  Jon took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before he continued.  “Then he took Patrick.  And all I had was my hockey again.”

“But Patrick came back.”

“He wasn’t the same.  He quit hockey.”

“And you hated him for that.”

“Yeah.  How could he just give up?  After all I did.  After everything.  He just quit.  I was so mad at him.  I hated him.”

“Did you tell him that?”

“No.  I told him it was okay.”  Jon looked away, staring at the window.  “If I told him, he’d have left.”

“So, you closed off your feelings again.”  Stacie said.  “Because that was easier than telling him.”

“Yeah.”  Jon sighed.

“What happened to bring on your recent panic attacks?”

“I thought Patrick was going to leave me.  I thought, well, I thought he had found somebody else.”

“But he hadn’t.”  Stacie prompted.

“He had just started skating again, training, for hockey.”  Jon told her.  “I don’t understand why that would have caused what happened.  I mean, I broke down, completely.”

“You said, ‘he’ll take him’ and ‘they’ll take him’, but you didn’t say who he or they were.  Do you know?”

Jon closed his eyes and leaned back on the couch.  His hands balled into fists and his foot tapped up and down nervously.  Stacie waited.

“Anderson.  His coach.  And.  And his family.  The people that hurt him before.”

“His coach is dead, though.  Right?  And his family, does he have any contact with them?”

“Yeah.  He’s dead.  Patrick killed him when he escaped.  And no, he doesn’t talk to his mom or sisters.  His dad is in prison.”

“And these thoughts, about them taking Patrick, they started when you thought Patrick would leave you?”

“Yeah.”  Jon lifted his head off the back of the couch and looked at Stacie.  “I guess so.”

“Do you remember having those thoughts before then?”

“No.  Not really.”  Jon pauses.  “Why?”

“Okay.  Here are my thoughts right now.  I think I have enough to put together a diagnosis.  Not because I’m big on them, but they seem important to other people.  And, I think we should put together a treatment plan to work on over the next several months.”

“Months?”  Jon questions.  He shakes his head.  “I can’t do this for months.  I don’t need to do this.  I’m just here cause they’re making me come.”

Jon gets up and starts toward the door.  Then he stops and turns back.

“What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing.  Nothing that isn’t to be expected for someone who went through a serious trauma.”

Jon closes his eyes.  “But, I said…”

“It was a traumatic experience Jon.  One you’ve never dealt with.  Not how it affected you.  Not how it made you feel.  It finally caught up with you, though.”

“PTSD.”  Jon says softly.

“Among other things.  I think you have severe depression.  And some OCD.  I think you’ve been suppressing your emotions for so long, it’s led to several issues.  It’s like blowing up a balloon.  Every feeling you bury, you blow a breath into the balloon.  It stretches for just so long and then, pop.” 

Jon tips his head at her analogy.

“So?  I popped?”


	15. Listening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick wasn’t sure anything he said right now was actually getting through to Jon. He also didn’t know exactly what to say. In the course of 15 minutes, Jon had hit several issues and not elaborated too much on any one. Patrick was trying to sort it all out in his mind, while controlling is anger at Anderson, and trying to not push Jon too much so he wouldn’t just shut down. This is what they wanted, Jon talking.
> 
> So, he just listened.
> 
> And Jon kept talking. For over an hour, Jon talked about not having friends. About how he felt growing up. His feelings for Patrick. What he went through when Patrick was taken, all the things from that time that he’d never talked to Patrick about before. He talked to Patrick about being mad at him. In detail. Then, he finally talked to Patrick about what Stacie told him about his problems.

“He’s dead and he’s still fucking up my life.”  Patrick slams the refrigerator door shut, making the jars on the door shelves rattle.  “Fuck him.”

“Honey.  You need to calm down.”  Andree’ tried to comfort Patrick.  “It’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”

“I just thought we’d gotten past all that shit.  You know this has to be because of him somehow.”

“Patrick, language.” She scolded softly.

“I’m sorry.  I’m piss… mad… I’m mad.  Okay.”

Jon had come home from therapy and declared he was cured and he didn’t need to go back.  End of conversation.  Then he’d gone to take a nap.  Avoiding any chance of conversation.

“I don’t get him.”  Patrick fumed.  “How can he think he’s just cured.  Just like that.  He didn’t even say what was wrong.”

“You know him.  He’s going to keep denying that anything is wrong.”

Patrick huffed and opened the fridge again.  He was upset.  He wanted to eat.  But he was upset and looking for food was too much of a bother.  He slammed the door shut again.

“Patrick.”

“I’m sorry.”  He went and sat at the kitchen table with her.  “What do we do?  Camp starts in a few days.”

“We wait.  And when he’s ready.  We listen.  Until then, we make sure he keeps going to see Stacie.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jon rolls over and opens his eyes slowly, sleepily.  He stretches and yawns.  His arm hits something solid.

He rolls back over and pretends he’s still asleep.

“Not gonna work, Jonny.”

“I’m not talking about it.”

“What did she say was wrong?”

“Nothing.  I’m fine.  No problems.”

“Jonathan?” 

Jon rolls over onto his back and looks up at Patrick.

“There’s nothing to talk about.  I went and saw her.  And it’s all fixed.”

“Uh huh.  Sure.”

“Why can’t you just let it drop?  Why can’t you just take my word?”

“Because you came home, avoided Maman and me, and slept for three hours.”  Patrick stated flatly.  “And if I hadn’t been sitting here, you’d have stayed in bed the rest of the day.”

“I’d have gotten up.” 

“Liar.”  Patrick smiled.  “So, what did she say?”

Jon flopped his arm over his face, burying his face in the crook of his elbow.  Patrick reached up and pulled his arm away.

“I never dealt with you being taken.  Evidently.”  Jon whispered.  “That’s what she said.”

“Okay.”  Patrick had been right.  He tried hard to not let his anger show.  He didn’t want Jon to think he was mad at him.

“And I dealt with it.  All fixed.  That’s it.”                                       

“You’re pathetic.”  Patrick tried to lighten things.  He poked Jon in the side.  “You couldn’t lie your way out of anything.”

“I’m not lying.  I talked to her these last few days and it’s all good now.”  He swatted at Patrick’s hand.  “Now go away.”

“You getting up?  Supper’s gonna be ready soon.”

Jon rolled over on his side, putting his back to Patrick.

“I guess that’s a no.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

True to his word, Jon didn’t get up to go to see Stacie the next day.  And he wouldn’t have gone, had he not gotten a phone call from Stan, ten minutes after his scheduled appointment time.  Jon called Stacie and set an appointment time for that afternoon.

He came home in a worse mood than the day before.  But, he didn’t hide himself away.

“Can we talk?”  He said, standing in the archway leading to the living room.  He stood with his hands in his pockets, head down. 

Patrick and Andree’ were both sitting on the couch.

“Me, honey?”  His mom asked.

“Patrick.”  Jon said lowly.  “Can we talk?”

Patrick got up and followed Jon to their bedroom.  Jon sat down on the edge of the bed, his hands began kneading the mattress at his sides.  He bit at his lower lip.  Patrick thought about sitting down next to him but decided to stand instead.  To stand and wait for Jon to ask him to sit.

“Why now?”  Jon asked softly, staring at the floor by his feet.

“Why now what?  Why did this happen now?  I have no clue, Jon.”

“No.  Why did you decide you wanted to come back?  Why?”

“I missed it.  I don’t know.  At some point, I guess I figured out that hockey meant a lot to me, that it was a big part of my life.”  Patrick admitted.  “Truth?  I realized that what happened didn’t happen because of hockey.  Not really.”

“Oh.”

“Why?”

“I was so mad at you.  When you quit.  I… I hated you… for giving up.  After all we’d been through.  After… everything.  You gave up.  It was hard to just nod my head and say that it was okay, and that I’d support whatever you did.  But I did.  Cause that’s what you do when you love someone.  Only… I did it, because I thought I’d lose you if I didn’t.”

“I know.  We talked about all that.”  Patrick said.  “Well, maybe not the part about you hating me.  That’s new.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Whew.”  Patrick makes an exaggerated gesture of grabbing his chest.  “Not sure I could have handled it if you did.”

“Asshole.”  Jon finally looks up.  He pats the bed next to him and Patrick sits down.  “She says I suppress my emotions.  Says I have most of my life.  It’s easier.  You can’t get hurt that way.  Well.  You don’t let anything hurt you.  If you don’t feel.  If you don’t care.”

Patrick leaned to his left, resting his shoulder against Jon’s.

“I never cared about anything… or anybody… not even family… the way I care about you.  I just wanted a friend, ya know.  And I got you.  And then, you played hockey, too.  We won, Patrick.  We were so good together on the ice.  And we’re good off the ice.  And I… I let myself…”

“You let yourself have feelings.  For me.”

“Yeah.  And then he took you.  My whole world ended, but I couldn’t let anyone see it.  I had to be strong.  Brave.”

“Showing emotions isn’t a sign of weakness.”

“I know that.  It was never like that.  I wasn’t worried they’d think I was weak.”  Jon whispered.  “I was worried they’d see how much it hurt me.”

“I think they’d have expected you to be hurt when he took me.  I mean…”

“No.  It hurt me when they talked about me behind my back.  When they didn’t want to be my friends away from hockey.”

“Who?”

“Everybody.”

“You have friends, Jon.  You know that, right?  Lots of people who love you, and not just because of hockey.”

“I know.  I guess.”  Jon hung his head, looking sad and defeated.

Patrick wasn’t sure anything he said right now was actually getting through to Jon.  He also didn’t know exactly what to say.  In the course of 15 minutes, Jon had hit several issues and not elaborated too much on any one.  Patrick was trying to sort it all out in his mind, while controlling is anger at Anderson, and trying to not push Jon too much so he wouldn’t just shut down.  This is what they wanted, Jon talking.

So, he just listened.

And Jon kept talking.  For over an hour, Jon talked about not having friends.  About how he felt growing up.  His feelings for Patrick.  What he went through when Patrick was taken, all the things from that time that he’d never talked to Patrick about before.  He talked to Patrick about being mad at him.  In detail.  Then, he finally talked to Patrick about what Stacie told him about his problems.

“I’m a mess.  She says I have PTSD.  And I may have OCD.  And I suppress my emotions.  And that thinking you were leaving me, that you’d found somebody new, may have triggered all of this.  And it’s been causing me to have anxiety attacks for a while.  That’s what happened.  It finally got too bad for me to be able to hide it.  Like, my emotional balloon popped, and it all came out in a rush.”

“Okay.  That’s it?”

“Well.  Yeah.  I was afraid to tell you.  What if you leave.  Stacie says a lot of that is from the OCD.  And from, like I said, keeping my emotions hidden.  And, well.  Now that you know…”

Jon scuffed his foot over the carpet.  Then, he looked at Patrick.  He expected anger.  He expected hurt.  He expected a lot of things.  What he saw was not anything that he expected.

Patrick was trying to suppress a smile, his cheeks red and dimples showing.  His eyes were bright and happy and full of… love.

“What’s so funny about all that?”

“And you call me an idiot.”  Patrick leaned over and kissed Jon’s cheek.  “Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?  And, you have to believe me, Jon, I’m not going anywhere.  It’s the Hawks or nothing.  It’s you... you idiot… it’s you or nothing.  And, you’ve had me worried this week.  I thought something was really wrong.”

“Something is really wrong.  Weren’t you listening?”

“Yeah.  I was.  All that..  the PTSD… the OCD… it makes sense.  It’s all something we can deal with, too.  We can work through this.  I got this.  Been there done that, remember.  So, we can do this.  You were there for me.  When we first met, through all that shit.  And then, you supported me… even though you hated me for quitting… you supported me.  Now it’s my turn.  To be there for you through this.”

Patrick brought both hands up to cup Jon’s face.

“I love you, you neurotic mess.  I love you with all my heart.  You’re stuck with me.  And I’m stuck with you.  What a pair we are, huh.”  Patrick kissed Jon, then let his arms slip around Jon’s shoulders, pulling him in to a tight hug.  Jon let his head fall to Patrick’s shoulder and just sat there, letting Patrick hold him.  “I love you, Jonny.  Always. No matter what.”

 


	16. Preseason - Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick doesn’t start on Jon’s line in Detroit, but he’s there by the midpoint of the first period. He’s flying on the ice. He and Jon are completely in sync, passing connecting, seemingly always knowing instinctively where the other is. It’s beautiful to watch. The Hawks end up winning 3-2 after Jon gets a late power play goal. 
> 
> The next night, Jon and Patrick watch from the press box as the other half of the team takes on Nashville. It’s a hard-fought game, but the Hawks lose 2-1.
> 
> A couple of nights later, Jon and Patrick are back on the ice when Detroit comes to Chicago for a rematch. It’s more of what the coaches saw in the first game. Jon and Patrick hitting on all cylinders. Patrick didn’t start with Jon again, but this time it only took two shifts before he was out on the ice with him. And, they put on an impressive show, combining for four goals and six assists between them in the 6-1 victory.

Training camp starts on Friday.  There are twice as many reporters as normal.  All there for the big story.  Patrick. 

Patrick sits across the locker room from Jon, slowly putting on his pads.  The team seem excited at the possibility of having him back.  He’s endured numerous head pats, fist bumps, handshakes, and hugs.  The smile on his face, wide grin bringing out his dimples, hides the underlying nervousness that has the butterflies in his stomach on hyper-mode.  When Jon catches his eye, Patrick lets his guard down for a split second, showing Jon his fear.  Jon smiles and winks at him.

Patrick stands, picks up his practice sweater and just stands there.  The material familiar in his hands, and yet oddly strange feeling as well.  There aren’t any numbers on the practice sweaters.  It’s just a generic jersey.  It’s red.  He looks around the room as the others are pulling their sweaters on, looking to see who’s wearing what color.  Trying to judge where he stands. 

The defensemen are wearing white.  The rookie forwards yellow.  The rookie defensemen green.  And Jon… red.  All the veteran forwards are wearing red.  Patrick’s hands clench around his sweater.  This has to be a mistake.

Q and the other coaches walk through the locker room on the way to the ice.  Patrick wonders if he should ask them.  Q looks his way, sees him just holding his sweater and nods.

“Won’t be good to be late on your first day back, Kaner.”  Q tells him.  “Best get it in gear.”

Patrick turns away and slowly pulls the sweater on over his pads.  He picks up his bucket and gives it a once over.  His fingers linger on the black 88 on the front.  Nobody had taken his number in the last three years.  That was odd, too, unless…

“Hey.  Ready?”  Jon taps his shoulder. 

“Yeah.”  Patrick says, barely audible to anyone but Jon.  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Patrick follows Jon down the hall to the ice.  Other guys, trainers, staff, are all mingling around the bench area at the practice center.  The rookies all look unsure of what to do.  Should they start warming up?  Should they wait?  Duncs and Brent stride past them and out onto the ice.  Brent knocks a bunch of pucks off the wall and shoots a couple at the empty net.  The rookies take that as the okay to hit the ice.

Jon waits and lets Patrick take the ice first.  Patrick picks up his stick on the way by the stack, twirls it in his hands as he gets to the door, and freezes.  Jon almost runs into his back.

“Patrick?”  Jon leans forward, his head nearly resting on Patrick’s shoulder.  “What?”

Patrick just shakes his head.  He takes a deep breath in through his nose.  The smells of the rink assault his senses.  Patrick closes his eyes and breathes it in again.  He opens his eyes slowly and steps out onto the ice.

He’s home.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

On Monday, after practice, the first round of cuts is made.  A lot of the prospects get sent back to their junior teams.  A few guys are reassigned to the AHL already.  Patrick is called in to Q’s office and Jon worries.  Surely, they’ll give him more than just the weekend for a try-out.  In Jon’s opinion, Patrick has been doing great.  He’s obviously still got his speed.  And he’s been tormenting Crow and the other goalies, scoring almost at will.

Patrick is in the office, with Q and Stan, for over an hour.  Jon showers and gets dressed, then paces around while he waits for Patrick to come out.  When he finally does, Patrick’s face is blank.  He changes out of his equipment, showers quickly and gets dressed.  He doesn’t talk the whole way to the car.

Jon gets in the driver’s side, puts the key in the ignition, but doesn’t start the engine.  He sits, staring straight ahead, his hands gripping the steering wheel. 

“Are you going to tell me?”  Jon asks.

“Nothing to tell.”  Patrick says.  “You’re just going to have to get used to having me around.”

“They cut you?  They fucking cut you?”  Jon swears and slams his palms against the steering wheel.  “I can’t fucking believe…”

“Jon.  I meant, at the rink.  In the locker room.  On the road.”  Patrick grins.  “Think you can handle sharing a room on the road, or should I ask for my own room?”

Jon turns his head to look at Patrick.

“What?”  Jon stammers.  “What the fuck?”

“At least for pre-season.  They haven’t decided for sure yet, but it’s looking good.”  Patrick is all smiles and laughing.  “Oh my god, Jon.  You should have seen your face.”

Jon’s face is white.  His hands are shaking.

“Why would you?  Why would?”

“Oh Jesus.  I’m sorry Jonny.  I’m sorry.  I thought I’d just have a little fun.  I wanted to wait and tell you when we were alone.  I didn’t, fuck, I didn’t think.”  Patrick reaches over and puts his hand over Jon’s.  “I’m sorry.”

Jon takes a few deep breaths and calms down.  Patrick lazily lets his thumb rub over the back of Jon’s hand. 

“You thought I was cut?”

“I couldn’t tell from your face, but I didn’t think it was good.”  Jon’s head is down.  “You looked disappointed.”

“I am.  I thought they’d tell me already.”

“Maybe they want to see how you do in a game or two.  That’s all.  Make sure you’re serious and everything.”

“I am serious about this Jon.  I told you how good I felt being back on the ice.”

“But that’s not traveling.  And playing against guys.  And taking hits.  And...  and everything.”

“It’s gonna be great.  I mean that.  I can’t wait to get to play a game.  We’re both gonna be starting Wednesday in Detroit.  That’s what Q said.”

“Really?”  Jon turned, a smile breaking across his lips.  “You think they’re gonna work us on the same line?”

“I hope so.”  Patrick smiled, feeling better that Jon was calmed down and okay.  He made a mental note – don’t fuck with Jon until he gets this figured out more.  “So?  You have to see Stacie this afternoon, right?”

“Yeah.  Later.”  Jon says.  “You wanna go get some lunch?”

“Let’s call Maman and see if she wants to go.  I think she said something about maybe going back home soon, now that you’re doing better.”

“Okay.”

Jon starts the car while Patrick digs out his phone to call Andree’.  A little bit later, they pick her up and head out to her favorite place for lunch.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

Patrick doesn’t start on Jon’s line in Detroit, but he’s there by the midpoint of the first period.  He’s flying on the ice.  He and Jon are completely in sync, passing connecting, seemingly always knowing instinctively where the other is.  It’s beautiful to watch.  The Hawks end up winning 3-2 after Jon gets a late power play goal. 

The next night, Jon and Patrick watch from the press box as the other half of the team takes on Nashville.  It’s a hard-fought game, but the Hawks lose 2-1.

A couple of nights later, Jon and Patrick are back on the ice when Detroit comes to Chicago for a rematch.  It’s more of what the coaches saw in the first game.  Jon and Patrick hitting on all cylinders.  Patrick didn’t start with Jon again, but this time it only took two shifts before he was out on the ice with him.  And, they put on an impressive show, combining for four goals and six assists between them in the 6-1 victory.

Jon and Patrick sit out the fourth preseason game, which is on the road in Columbus.  They end up at Brent’s watching the game with some of the others who didn’t make the trip.  Patrick keeps a close eye on Jon, who spends most of the evening talking to Crow.  He looks happy.  Laughing.  Joking.  You’d never know anything was wrong to look at him. 

Unless you were Patrick.

Patrick notices everything.  Maybe he’s reading too much into it.  But…

Jon gets up and goes to the restroom several times, even though he’s not drinking much.  Jon’s been nursing the same bottle of water all evening.  When he’s come out of the bathroom, his hair’s been damp looking around his face, like maybe he had been splashing water on his face.  When he’s been sitting next to Crow, he’s been laughing and engaged in the conversations, but he’s kept his hands folded on his lap.  He’s been sitting up straight, not relaxed like everyone else.  His body says uncomfortable, despite the smile on his face.

In the car on the way home, Patrick asks about it.  At first, Jon’s defensive.  He snaps that he’s fine.  Tells Patrick he had a good time.  Tells him he’s over-analyzing things.  Then Jon gets quiet.  Patrick lets him ride in silence.  Waiting.

“Go ahead.  Say it.”  Jon says finally, when they are almost home.

“Say what?”

“Whatever it is you’re thinking.  I can hear it.”  Jon looks out the passenger side window, avoiding looking at Patrick.  “I can hear you thinking from over here.”

“Not thinking about anything.”  Patrick lies.

“Uh huh.”  Jon sighs.  “Okay.  I’ll say it.  I had a hard time tonight.”

“They’re our friends.  Our family, really.  What was so hard about tonight?”

“I don’t know.  It’s different.  Not like it was.”

“Cause?”  Patrick draws out the question.

“Cause they know.”  Jon answers softly. 

“They know… what?”

“That I’m in therapy.  That I had a… a… breakdown.”

 “Yeah.  They know that when you’re on the ice with them, too.  And in the locker room.  And on the plane.”  Patrick says.  “Why was it different tonight?”

 “It just was.  I guess I don’t think about it when I’m playing.” 

 “I’m sure they don’t think about it either.”  Patrick smiles.  “On or off the ice.”

 “Do you think they’d be our friends if we didn’t play hockey?”

 “That’s kind of a silly question.”  Patrick laughs, then looks at the serious expression on Jon’s face.  “I just mean that, we wouldn’t know them if we didn’t play hockey with them.”

 “Suppose, I mean, just suppose we all met but none of us played hockey.  Would we be friends?  Do you think they’d like us?  Me?”

 “I’d think so.  I mean, what’s not to like about this.”  Patrick waves his hand up and down his side, like a model displaying a valuable object. 

 That gets Jon to laugh.

 “Jason liked you, Jon, and he didn’t know anything about your hockey.”  Patrick adds.

 “I was paying him to like me.”

 “Yeah.  But if you were an asshole, he wouldn’t have kept letting you.  Or, he wouldn’t have let me go with you that first time.  And hey, I didn’t know about your hockey when I fell in love with you.”  Patrick reaches across the car and takes Jon’s hand, lacing their fingers and resting their hands on Jon’s lap.  “Jealous kids can be shitheads.  And parents, too.  I heard it when I was younger.  Especially cause I was the coach’s pet they said.  Well, yeah, we all know the truth now.  But they didn’t know that then.  They just thought he took a special interest in me cause of my hockey skills.  Thought he’d get rich off me, they said.  I heard it.  I remember what it was like.  So, I do get it, Jon.  What you felt.  What you feel.”

 Jon squeezed Patrick’s hand.  He turned his head to look out the window again. 

 “I think you’re gonna make the team.”

 “Me too.  That’s a good thing, right?”

 “The best.”  Jon says. 

 His tone has changed.  He’s more relaxed and at ease than he’d been when they got in the car to drive home.  Patrick makes the last turn of their trip, on to their street.  A few blocks later he pulls into their driveway.  He turns the engine off and they just sit in the dark for a few minutes, not talking.

 “Stacie wants me to try taking some medication.  To help with the anxiety.”

 “Okay.  Did she say what?”

 “No.  But.  You know how I am with taking shit.”

“If it helps, though.”

 Jon doesn’t answer. 

 “You don’t need to decide tonight.  Let’s see what it is she wants to give you.  We’ll look it up tomorrow, okay?”

 “Okay.”  Jon nods.  “Patrick?”

 “Yeah?”

 “Thanks.  For listening.  For telling me that stuff about when you were younger.” 

 “I told ya, Jon.  We’re quite the pair.  More alike than anyone knows.  Which is a good thing.”  Patrick leans over and kisses him.  “I mean, who else would put up with you?”

 ““Té bin nono.”  Jon whispers against Patrick’s lips, leaning in to return the kiss.


	17. Preseason - Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And what?” Patrick questions.
> 
> Jon’s legs give out and he drops to the deck, Patrick falling on top of him. He lays under Patrick, catching his breath.
> 
> “And what, Jon?” Patrick sits up, straddling Jon’s legs. He smacks him on the ass. “That’s a great contract.”
> 
> “Did you read it closely?” Jon asks, looking up at Patrick over his shoulder. Patrick tips his head confused, so Jon picks up the envelope and hands it to him. “Did you read it?”
> 
> “I skimmed it. Looked the same as my PTO.”
> 
> “Read it. Closely.”

“Whatcha doin?” 

Patrick flops down dramatically on the bed, making a point of bouncing a couple of times to rattle Jon, who grabbed his laptop with both hands to keep it from sliding off.

“Research.”

“Research on what?”  Patrick worms his head under Jon’s arms and onto his lap.  “Huh.  What? What? What?”

“Ways to deal with anxiety, stress and depression.”  Jon huffs, shifting his laptop down his stretched-out legs to make room for Patrick.

“Drugs, Jon.  We decided drugs.”

“You decided.”  Jon tugs on Patrick’s hair, making him roll his head and look up at Jon.  “I haven’t decided that, yet.”

“If not drugs, then what?”

“Exercise.  Eating right.”

“You already do that.  I don’t think it’s made much of a difference.”

“Not like, a work-out.  Different things.  Yoga.  Meditation.  That kind of exercise.”

“And eating right?”

“I eat like you do.”

“That’s not a bad thing.”

“I used to eat really healthy.  Before I met you.”

“I remember.  Thank god the days of vegetarianism are gone.  We crave meat!” 

“I didn’t do just vegetarian.  But we ate better.”  Jon says.  “We need to go back to that.  No more ice cream.”

Patrick gasped.  “No.  Not my ice cream.”

“No more dairy at all maybe.  And more vegetables and lean meats.  No more steakhouse once a week for a giant piece of fat.”  Jon continued.

“You like a big piece of meat.”  Patrick smirked, letting his cheek press against Jon’s groin. 

“And the crap goes, too.  We get healthier cookies if you have to have them.  No more candy all over the place.   Less sugar.  We eat whole grains more.  It won’t be so bad.” Jon continues, ignoring Patrick’s innuendo.

Patrick rolls over on his back and looks up at Jon again. 

“Getting you better is gonna suck.  Are you sure you can’t just stay a mess?”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Patrick sits cross-legged on the floor.  His forearms rest on his knees, hands turned palm-up.  His eyes are closed and he’s breathing in slowly through his nose, exhaling just as slowly out his mouth.

He opens one eye.

Jon is in a similar pose a few feet in front of Patrick.  Patrick watches Jon.

“I can feel you.”  Jon says.

Patrick shuts his eye, clenching them both shut tightly.

“You’re supposed to be relaxing.”

“I don’t see the point in this, Jon.”

“If you gave it a chance.”

“Like the yoga yesterday?  I think I pulled something trying some of those poses.”

“You didn’t.”  Jon opened his eyes.  “It’ll help your hockey.”

“I kept getting distracted.”  Patrick gets up and walks over to stand over Jon.

Jon looked up, his face distorted in annoyance at Patrick interrupting their meditation.  

“Distracted, Peeks?” 

Patrick stepped so his feet were on either side of Jon and squatted down.  Jon stretched his legs out, so Patrick could settle on his lap.  Patrick draped his arms over Jon’s shoulders and leaned his head forward, so his forehead rested against Jon’s.

“That, what’s it called, doggie one.  That big ass of your just stuck right out there.”  Patrick brushed his lips over Jon’s, warm and inviting.  “Distracted.”

“Did you just call my ass fat?”  Jon smirks, pulling his head back.

“Big.  Fat.  Ginormous.”  Patrick giggled.  “Almost as legendary a huge ass as Crosby.”

“Smart ass.”  Jon wrapped his arms around Patrick and pulled him down as Jon fell backwards. 

\------------------------------------------------------

Patrick and Jon both play in the last two preseason games.  They’re on a line with this Saad kid and they are killin’ it.  The day after the last preseason game, Stan calls Patrick to his office.  When Patrick enters, Q is there, and there’s a bright red folder on Stan’s desk, Patrick’s name written across the top.

“Come in.  Sit down, son.”  Stan says, stepping around his desk to shake Patrick’s hand.  Q stands and shakes his hand as well.

“Relax.”  Joel says, reading Patrick’s body language.  “All good.”

“Yes.  All good.”  Stan repeats.  “Welcome back to the Hawks.”

Patrick lets out a huge sigh of relief, his tense muscles slouching into the high-backed chair.

“You were worried?”  Joel asks.

“A little.”  Patrick admitted, looking sheepish.

“Well, you didn’t need to be.  We’ve been very pleased with your play.  You didn’t lose a step in your time away.”

“Thank you.”  Patrick smiled, taking in the praise.

“Which brings us to the only issue we have.”  Stan opened the folder and took out some official looking papers.

Uh oh.  Patrick’s chest tightened.  He thought he and Stan had already worked everything out before this.  His PTO contract would just roll into his official contract with the Hawks.  He’d be coming back at just a slightly higher salary than he’d earned in his entry-level contract.  It’d been fair, and the best he thought he could do given the circumstances.

“Issue?”  Patrick said weakly, softly. 

“Well, we didn’t expect you to come back as strong as you have.”  Stan explained.  “I guess we underestimated you.”

“Seriously.”  Joel said under his breath.

“Anyway.  Here’s what we were thinking.  We’d like to do right by you and treat you fairly.  Especially since you’re negotiating for yourself.  I kind of think you maybe weren’t expecting things to go this way either.”  Stan continued.

Patrick nodded.  “I think you’re right about that.”

“Your ELC ran out a couple of years ago.  I know we treated you as if you were just on long-term IR those last couple of years, but we’d still have had to negotiate an extension way before now.  And, given what we’ve seen, and the level of production we think we’d have seen through the end of your contract.  Well.  I, we, the Hawks’ management, decided we’d like to alter the agreement we’d come to before training camp.”

“It’s not as good as Jonathan’s contract.”  Joel smiles.  “Sorry about that.”

Stan hands Patrick the papers.  Patrick flips through them, reading over all the standard legalese.  It’s all the same as what he’d signed with his PTO.  Until he gets to the bottom line, that is.  Patrick’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Wow.”  He whispers.

“Wow?  Good?  Wow, bad?”  Stan asks.

"Uh, wow, good.  Wow.”

The figure listed for his annual salary is more than five times what his ELC had been.  And the term had been changed from two years, a bridge contract, to an extended six years.  That would make it run as long as the remaining term of Jon’s contract.  Patrick stares at the numbers in disbelief.

“So.  Are those terms acceptable?”  Stan asks.  “If so, we can sign it and make everything official.”

Patrick nods slowly.  He sits back against the chair, holding the contract out in front of him.  He reads it again.

“Are you sure about this?”  Patrick finally questions.

“We’re expecting a lot from you.  And Jon.”  Stan says.  “Not going to lie.  You got us a Cup your rookie year, and we think you can help Jon lead this team to another Cup win, if not several more Cups.  So yes, Patrick, we’re sure about this.”

Patrick leans forward and lays the contract on Stan’s desk.  He takes the pen Stan offers, and signs above his typed name on the last page. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Patrick opens the front door and walks into the house, kicking his shoes off in the entranceway.  He swings the door shut and yells.

“Jon!  Hey, Jonny!”

The house is silent and empty, however, much to Patrick’s disappointment.  Jon hadn’t said he was going anywhere.  Patrick checks around the downstairs, then hollers up the stairs.  Still no answer from Jon, though.  Patrick looks down at the manila envelope in his hand.  He wishes he’d let Jon go to the meeting with him, so they could be celebrating now.  Instead, he’s alone and has no idea where Jon even is. 

Patrick wanders in to the kitchen and goes to toss the envelope down on the table when something outside catches his attention.  He holds on to the envelope and walks out the French doors to the back deck.

Jon’s doing his yoga outside, enjoying the warm, autumn sun.  And, more importantly to Patrick, is that Jon is in Patrick’s favorite position.  Feet planted on the towel together, arms stretched out in front of him, and ass sticking up in the air.  Downward-facing dog, a beautiful Jon shaped inverted V.  Wearing just a skimpy pair of shorts.  A light sheen of sweat making his tanned-skin shine in the late afternoon sun.

Patrick strides over to Jon and leans himself against the back of Jon’s legs.

“Ooofff!”  Jon huffs.  “Fuck, Peeks.”

“Mmmm… just look at this beaut.”  Patrick smacks Jon’s ass with his free hand.  “Nice, baby.”

“Get off me, asshole.”

Patrick tosses the envelope down in front of Jon, who lifts his head and looks at it suspiciously.

“Walking papers?”  He chirps.

“Fucker.  You knew they were gonna offer me a permanent contract.”

“Yeah.  Q told me last night, after the game.  Said they had a surprise for you.”

Patrick’s now rubbing both hands over Jon’s ass, squeezing the firm muscle, stretched tight.    
  
“Is that why you didn’t want to go?”

“I told you.  It was your day, your meeting.  I didn’t feel right being a part of it.”

“Uh huh.  Right.”  Patrick leans over Jon’s ass and runs his hands up Jon’s spine.  He’s wondering just how long Jon can hold this pose with Patrick’s added weight on his legs.  He can feel Jon’s thighs starting to quiver under the strain.

“Did Q tell you what the surprise was?”  Patrick questions.

“No.”

“Six years.  Holy fucking shit, Jon.  They gave me six years.”

“And?”

“And, a shitload of money.  A lot more than what I’d agreed to before.  Fuck.  They’re acting like I never left.”  Patrick hums happily, wrapping his arms around Jon’s waist and planting a kiss between his shoulders.  “I’m back baby!”

“And?”  Jon’s voice is shaky.  He’s straining to stay upright.

“And what?”  Patrick questions.

Jon’s legs give out and he drops to the deck, Patrick falling on top of him.  He lays under Patrick, catching his breath.

“And what, Jon?”  Patrick sits up, straddling Jon’s legs.  He smacks him on the ass.  “That’s a great contract.”

“Did you read it closely?”  Jon asks, looking up at Patrick over his shoulder.  Patrick tips his head confused, so Jon picks up the envelope and hands it to him.  “Did you read it?”

“I skimmed it.  Looked the same as my PTO.”

“Read it.  Closely.”

Patrick pulls the papers out of the envelope and tosses it aside.  He reads down through the first page.  Standard contract shit it looks like.  He reads the second page.  Incentive bonuses.  More standard.  He flips to the third page and is halfway down when he sees it.

“Fuck me.”  Patrick swears, staring at the words.  _No-Trade/No-Movement._

“What was that?” 

“Fuck me.  Fuck me, Jonny!”  Patrick yells.  “Did you know about this?”

“Q told me last night.  Stan added it.  Because we got married.”  Jon pushes his ass up and Patrick lifts up off him, so Jon can roll over.

Patrick grins down at him.  He tosses the contract down and practically throws himself down on Jon, bringing their lips together for a hot, demanding kiss.

“I’m not fucking goin’ anywhere, Jonny.  Ever!”  Patrick says against Jon’s lips when he breaks for air.  “Hawks for life, baby!”

“Forever, Peeks.”  Jon replies, his hand sliding behind Patrick’s head to pull him back in to another kiss.


	18. The Future Is Ours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short time later, on a brisk, blustery day in November, Patrick Kane and Jonathan Toews are inducted into the Hockey Hall of Fame.
> 
> Side by side.
> 
> Together.
> 
> Forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, yes, I am wrapping this up in another snapshot chapter. I'm not sure I'm happy with this part of the story. I may revisit it and do some rewrite. It did not play out the way I had first imagined it in my head. Anyway. For now. It's done. But... maybe... there will be more...

****The Hawks open the season at home.  Amid the usual first game hoopla, no one notices just how nervous Patrick is.  Or, Jon.  He’s got his serious captain face on, but his insides are doings backflips.

Maybe it’s more happiness than nerves. 

Jon watches as Patrick is introduced.  Listens to the roaring ovation.  They pause the introductions to give the crowd time to settle so they’ll be able to hear the next name.  Jon’s heart beats a little faster.  Patrick, his Patrick, is back on the ice with him.  They’re together.  It is the way Jon imagined it was going to be when he got Patrick back in to hockey that first time.

Jon is introduced last.  He skates out and takes his spot at the end of the line of players.  The United Center is filled to capacity as he scans the stands.  He finds the box where their family is seating, along with Jason and his crew, and Goodie.  All here to watch Patrick’s return to the game.  The public-address announcer makes a few more comments, the players all raise their sticks and salute the partisan crowd.  Then, Jon and Patrick stand on the Hawks’ blue line for the national anthem.

“You ready for this?”  Jon asks Patrick.

“Hell yes!”  Patrick exclaims.  “Hockey baby!”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jon wishes their last game could have been at home.  It was bad enough that they were going out in the first round of the playoffs, but losing game 5 on the road, to the Wild no less, was almost more than he could handle.  They’d had their celebrations in Chicago, though.  They’d been honored at the last home game of the regular season, as well as two nights ago in what could have been their last home game ever, a disappointing 3-1 loss in game four.

Jon followed Patrick to the handshake line.  There were lots of congratulations on retirement mingled in with the words of good game from the Wild.  The Minnesota crowd that stayed to watch the handshakes gave the Chicago pair a loud ovation as they acknowledged the Hawks fans in the stands. 

Jon stood near the bench door, waiting for his team to filter off the ice.  His team.  For the last time.  Patrick was last in line.  He paused, stopping and turning around to take it all in one last time.

“Are you still sure about this?”  Jon questioned.  “You could keep playing.”

“Nah.  It’s time.”  Patrick smiled at him, his eyes glistening.  “I don’t want to play without you.”

Ten years.  They’d played together ten years after Patrick’s return.  The names Toews and Kane became one entity, one hardly ever being said without the other.  They were a package deal in so many ways, and they’d go out that way.

It wasn’t age that dictated their retirement.  Not completely.  Jon was only 37.  But as Indiana Jones said in that movie, it’s not the age, it’s the miles.  The aches and pains in Jon’s back had steadily gotten worse.  Recovery time after a hard hit, or a set of back-to-backs, or anything really, was getting longer.  It was time.  Patrick was right.

Patrick, at 35, was still putting up good stats.  But he’d tell you he’d lost a step or two.  It was getting harder to keep up with the young guys.  And, he truly didn’t want to play without Jon.

Hawks for life.  Together.

In the last ten years, they’d been instrumental in making the Hawks a dynasty team.  Three more cups graced their trophy room, along with several Art Ross, Hart, and Conn Smythe trophies.

“I’m gonna miss it.”  Patrick scanned the stands.  “Hockey baby.”  He said softly.

“Hockey.”  Jon echoed.  He walked over and wrapped his arms around Patrick, leaning down to whisper in Patrick’s ear.  “Baby.”

Patrick hugged Jon, burying his head against Jon’s shoulder, nuzzling into his neck.  They stood there, just holding each other for several minutes.  Then, Jon pulled back, took Patrick’s hand, and they stepped off the ice for the last time.

A picture of them hugging graced the cover of Sports Illustrated the next week.  _The End of an Era_ , the cover caption read.  Patrick had it framed to sit on the dresser in their bedroom.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The following September, when the PR department asks them if they have a preference for the date of the ceremony, they both picked December.

“Any chance we have a game on the second?”  Jon turns, sure that Assistant General Manager Patrick Kane had the upcoming season’s schedule memorized.”

“Back-to-backs.  Away on the second.  Home on the third.”

Yeah, his husband is such a hockey geek.

“The third would work?”  Jon asks Patrick, who nods in agreement.

“What’s important about the second?”  Cathi, the Director of Communications, asks.

“It’s the day I met Jonny.”  Patrick tells her.  “A red letter day in hockey history.”

Cathi grins.  “Excellent.  A bonus.  I think we can really work with that for the ceremony.  How many years?”

“It’ll be 19 this coming December.”  Jon reaches under the table and takes Patrick’s hand.  “But, uh, maybe we could not make that a part of all this.”

“I don’t understand.”  Cathi shrugs.

“Well.  It’s how Patrick and I met.  The true story.  It might be better if we just skipped that.”

Cathi looks back and forth between them, still confused.

“I was hooking.  On the street.”  Patrick confesses.  He waves his free hand up and down his body.  “Jon saw this and just had to have it.”

Jon turns several shades of red, from his ears to his chest.

Cathi looks shocked, then starts laughing.  “Yeah.  Okay.  We leave that part out.”

On December 3rd, Patrick and Jon stand at center ice again.  This time they are watching as the Chicago Blackhawks officially retire number 19 and 88.  Patrick reaches over and holds Jon’s hand as the banners are pulled up to the rafters. 

“Happy anniversary.”  Patrick whispers towards Jon.  “A day late.”

“A red letter day in hockey.”  Jon smirks.

“Hell yes.”  Patrick snorts.  “The start of a beautiful friendship.”

“Did you ever think this was how it would end?”

“Truth?”  Patrick squeezes Jon’s hand.  “No.  I never thought my life could end up being as great as it’s been.”

“Me either.”  Jon smiles.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

“Come on, old guy.  We’re gonna be late.”  Patrick pokes Jon in the side as he walks past him.

Jon is adjusting his tie.  He stands in front of the full-length mirror and stares at his reflection.  His hair is thinner, and greying.  He’s fit, yoga and work-outs still a part of his daily regiment even after three years.  There are wrinkles around the corner of his eyes and mouth.  Laugh lines, earned from years of a happy life with Patrick. 

“When did I get old?”  Jon huffs. 

He looks at Patrick’s reflection in the corner of the mirror.  Patrick’s standing by the bed, waiting.  His blonde hair hides his grey hair well.  It’s thinned out on top just like Jon’s, but the remnants of his tight curls are still evident.  His face is still boyish, non-aging.  He’s wearing glasses, maybe the only thing besides his hairline that give away his age.  And at that, even though his eyesight had faded a little, his blue eyes are still bright and full of life.  Patrick’s put on a few pounds sitting behind a desk.  Jonny doesn’t mind, gives him a little more to hold on to.  Jon smiles when he catches Patrick staring at his ass.  Somethings never change.

“Like what you see?”  Jon chirps.

“Of course.”  Patrick grins.  “I’d still hit that old man ass of yours.  But.  We’re gonna be late.”  Patrick taps at his watch.

“Alright.  Alright.”  Jon groans.  “Let’s get this over with.”

They made their way down to the hotel lobby and to the car waiting to take them across town.  When they arrive at their destination and are met by a young man in a suit.

“Mr. Kane.  Mr. Toews.  I’m Ryan.  If you’ll follow me, please.”  The young man directs them towards the entrance.

Patrick stops when he sees the life-sized cut-outs just inside the door.  He taps Jon’s arm, so he looks.

“My god.  Were we really that young once?”

“I think they used my rookie picture.”  Patrick laughs.  “Wow.  Now I feel old.”

 “Ya know, having our numbers retired was one thing.  But this?  I never dreamed.”

 “You belong here.”  Patrick assures him. 

 “We belong here.”  Jon takes Patrick’s hand, pulling him in for a hug and a quick kiss.

 A short time later, on a brisk, blustery day in November, Patrick Kane and Jonathan Toews are inducted into the Hockey Hall of Fame.

 Side by side.

 Together.

 Forever.


End file.
